A Different Daydream : a Bookworms & Booya story
by mintbaby
Summary: Sally Regal, the Library Girl, wakes one morning to a changed reality. Have terrorists broken through her mind in order to get valuable Garden secrets? Or have 8 years of her life with Zell truly vanished? A Bookworms & Booya alternate reality.
1. Waking

**A Different Daydream**

**A Bookworms & Booya story**

**by Nona 'mintbaby' King**

Author's Note: _A Different Daydream_ was a definite surprise. A pleasant, angsty one that I've enjoyed exploring. I have done my best to make things as true-to-life as possible without going too overboard on the 'since we did this in _B&B_, let's do this in _ADD_'. But I suppose some of the things introduced may still seem a bit far-fetched or 'Whatever'. It's bound to happen in mostly everything because there's no such thing as a unique story. Only a unique representation of that story.

Many thanks to Catmint [Mary, owner of Saerin/Eryn, author of _Calm Disruption_] & Peppermint [JSeay, owner of Jaxon Crest & Serra Almasy, author of _In Theory_] for their encouragement, suggestions, and scene & character contributions. You gals rock!

~mintbaby [Nona King]

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* * *

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Other Books in the Bookworms and... Booya! story cycle:

B&B Vol 1 - Bookworms and... Booya!

B&B Vol 2 - After the Fact

B&B Vol 3 - Life's Lessons on Stress

B&B Vol 4 - The Workings of 'Happy Ever After'

The Reluctant Knight (Seifer)

Few Words (Fujin)

* * *

_Prologue ~ Time ~_

"Zell!"

The spike-haired blond twitched. He looked up from his tray of hot dogs and stack of written tests to the SeeD approaching at a run. "What?" he asked around a mouth full of hot dog.

"We just got a report of a pair of rogue T-Rexaurs that broke free. They're attacking a trio of junior classmen!"

Zell choked down his bite as he stood. "_What_?"

"Squall and Selphie are there getting them out, but with no junctions—"

"Shit!" Zell sprinted out of the cafeteria, the SeeD keeping pace beside. "Anyone hurt?"

"I don't know. Squall said there was a candidate who took the brunt of the attack; she threw herself in front of the kids and took the T on with just a quarterstaff." The SeeD sent Zell a sidelong glance. "It was the library girl."

Zell's shoes made a screeching sound on the cold flooring of the Balamb Garden hallway. "_…the hell_?" He took off, almost not making it around the corner into the main corridor of the training center. When he dove into the main section of the T.C. beyond the metal double-doors, he could hear the fight: Squall barking orders, Selphie ordering the lower-level SeeD back– A thunderous growl rumbled and Zell dove forward.

He heard the report of Squall's gunblade followed by the pain-filled roar of the T-Rexaur. "Squall! Shout out! Where are ya?!"

"Here! Selphie, get down– Look out!!"

Another collection of roars thundered, the T-Rexaurs' rampaging steps shaking the ground. Zell retrieved some sharper rocks on his way deeper into the T.C.. Then he rounded the corner, using the forward inertia as he hurled the rocks at the T-Rexaur lowering its head for a snap at the petite form covering the crying junior classman. Both projectiles hit the T square. It lifted its head and growled in pain, blood spurting from its eye.

Squall charged forward and slashed at the area behind its leg, slicing the critical ligaments that supported the huge frame. The T-Rexaur staggered and fell, Squall hurrying forward to submerge his blade deep into its brain. It thrashed and then went still.

The other charged–straight into a hail of gunfire from SeeD security. It moaned and growled, roaring before it turned tail and fled deeper into the training center, leaving destruction in its wake.

Zell charged toward the girl everyone called "the library girl", skidding to his knees beside her. He eased her body away from the junior classmen, staring with wide eyes at the bloody mess of her uniform. "Shit." The torn flesh of the candidate's back and shoulder caused a heave of nausea. "Squall…." He looked to his friend as Squall dropped to one knee at her other side. "Dude, she's messed up."

"She's still breathing." Squall motioned to Zell with a lift of his chin as he stood, the scar on his face taut with his frown. "Come on. Let's get her to the infirmary. Hurry."

Zell lifted her into his arms and hurried from the T.C. after Squall.

***

Zell bolted from his seat outside the infirmary doors as the doctor stepped out. Squall stood more slowly, as did Selphie. "Is she going to be OK?" Zell asked, stepping forward.

"It's too soon to tell, Mr. Dincht. She's lost a lot of blood. We were able to save her arm, though she will have a lot of scarring on her left shoulder and upper back near her left scapulae, even with the skin grafts. We won't know about trauma to her spine until later. There is no swelling. No internal bleeding, either." Dr. Kadowaki shook her head and sighed. "Other than that, it's too soon to tell."

Zell looked down. "Oh."

Squall sent the doctor a small smile. "Thanks, doctor. Keep us informed, will you?"

"Of course." She bowed and then turned to enter back into the infirmary.

Selphie came to stand beside Zell, hugging his arm as she rested a cheek against it. "She'll be OK, Zelly."

Moving to his other side, Squall gripped his friend's shoulder.

***

Zell poked his head around the doors of the infirmary. "Doc?"

Dr. Kadowaki lifted her focus from her desk and the medical charts she reviewed. "Hello, Zell. What can I do for you?"

"She wake up yet?"

"Ah. No. I'm afraid not."

He stepped fully into the infirmary. "But it's been a month!" he protested. "I thought she was gonna wake up weeks ago. Isn't she doing better?"

"Technically, yes. Otherwise… I'm afraid I couldn't say."

"Huh?"

Dr. Kadowaki smiled. "She's doing better, Zell. Healing. That's all you need to concern yourself with right now. So, if you would like, you can step in and see her sometime next week. Right now, she's resting."

"Resting? But she sleeps all the time!"

"We had to perform a little surgery to relieve pressure again."

Zell cringed.

"The procedure wasn't invasive," the doctor assured, "but due to her past injury during the Galbadia Garden attack, I would rather no one bother her for a while. All right?"

Zell sent a glance toward one of the curtained-off rooms and then tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and headed out of the infirmary. "Thanks, Doc!" he called.

Dr. Kadowaki stepped away, smiling as she shook her head and looked over the chart once more.

***

"Zell Dincht!"

Zell sharply stood and turned to meet the stern expression of Dr. Kadowaki as she stood with hands on hips at the foot of the bed. "H-hey, Doc."

"And just what are you doing in here, young man?"

"W-well, I w-was just kinda… erm…." He cleared his throat and sent a glance to the young woman sleeping in the bed. "I only wanted to see how she was doing, and if she'd woke up at all," he mumbled.

"Mr. Dincht, my patients _always_ do fine, and with no help from you. Now get out of here and let me do my job before I lose my _patience_!"

"Oh, come on!" Zell complained. "I'm not doing anything but sitting here telling her about the fight at Ultimecia's castle and stuff. What can it hurt?"

Dr. Kadowaki's right eyebrow lifted. "And how many hours have you been here, Mr. Dincht?"

Flushing, Zell lowered his gaze and kicked at the linoleum. "Two."

"Visiting times are limited to 30 minutes, and you _know_ that."

Zell once more focused on the doctor. "Come _on_, Doc! I'm almost done!"

Dr. Kadowaki pointed to the door. "_Out_, Mr. Dincht. And don't let me catch you in here longer than 30 minutes again."

"Aw, man," Zell muttered. He stalked from the infirmary and down the corridor toward the main area of Balamb Garden. "I was just talkin', sheesh. The hell's wrong with that?"

"What's the matter with you, Zelly?"

Zell looked up and smiled at Selphie who watched him with green eyes full of curiosity. "Hey, Selph. Just got kicked out of the infirmary."

Selphie laughed. "Again? That's the third time this month."

Grimacing, Zell nodded. "Dude! I _know_! You'd think I was sucking her blood or something the way they kick me outta there!"

Taking him by the arm, she led him toward the cafeteria. "There, there, Zelly. Let's go get some hot dogs. You can tell me how she's doin' while you eat."

Zell grinned. "Booya!"

***

"Hey, Zell. How's it goin?"

Zell glanced toward the voice. His buddy from the infirmary sent a wave. "Hey, Elton." Then he wrestled his focus back to the stack of papers surrounding him in the commons area of the main corridor.

"So, yeah, like, all of a sudden she sat up and asked for the doctor!" Elton told the female SeeD to his right. "She sounded a bit weird but who wouldn't? I mean, she's been asleep for, how long?"

At the word 'asleep', Zell bolted to his feet, his papers scattering. "She's awake?"

Elton turned. "What? Oh, yeah. The library girl's awake. She sat up and talked as if nothing but a day or two went by."

Zell threw his red pen and dove down the corridor toward the infirmary. "This is so wickedly cool!" Rounding the corner on a slide, Zell missed Selphie by a fraction. "She's awake, she's awake!" he bellowed as he continued on, this time stepping backwards as he gestured toward Selphie. "Go tell Squall!"

Selphie bobbed her head to the affirmative and took off at a sprint.

Zell faced forward in time to keep from bowling over a trio of candidates, did a fancy hop/skip/jump around them, and continued toward the infirmary at a sprint.

* * *

_One ~ Waking ~_

I stretched my arms over my head as I looked around me, my mind groggy. Being in the infirmary didn't ring right. _Aren't I supposed to be in Winhill? And where's Hugo?_ Zell quite often slipped out of bed first to get a head start on the office work, but our Bull Mastiff, Hugo, always slept on the floor on my side of the bed and wouldn't move until I got up. Sometimes he even sat there for an hour, his chin resting on the bed and a patient expression in his doe brown eyes.

Rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands, I smacked my lips and did another slight stretch. Then I again took stock of my surroundings. _Infirmary?_

Frowning, I sat up–and gave a blink of surprise when that action caused a headache and an extreme feeling of exhaustion. I lowered my gaze, my focus drawn by the medical identification bracelet on my wrist. Twirling it until I could read the typed information, I brought it closer. My eyes widened. "What?" And my voice rasped as if I had laryngitis.

I grimaced and glanced to a glass of water on the bed-stand to my left. Bringing it to my lips, my hands shook and the glass felt much heavier than it should. _What is going on?_ I once more gauged my environment, trying to remember returning to Balamb Garden from Winhill.

"This has _got_ to be a prank," I mumbled as I tossed back the covers. However, when I attempted to swing my legs over the side of the bed, the effort it took waved a red flag. _Did I fall down the house stairs?_ A concussion could cause limited amnesia, after all.

Giving my head a slight shake, I slid off the bed— and nearly fell over. If I hadn't held onto the mattress I would have gone straight to the floor. Staring down at my legs peeking out from my hospital gown, my expression was slack-jawed amazement as weakness forced me to lean my entire weight on the mattress. _What is going on?_

I heard a step followed by a gasp and clatter and looked up to see a medical intern staring at me with wide eyes and now-empty hands. I smiled. "Oops. I didn't mean to scare you." Pushing myself back onto the bed, I asked, "Is Dr. Kadowaki around? I don't feel myself."

He scurried back the way he came while shouting, "Doctor! _Doctor_!" and a few other names that I couldn't decipher with how fast he ran down the hall.

"I'm not feeling _that_ bad." I giggled. "Zell Dincht, I'm going to get you for this. You and Zack both. Because I know he put you up to it." I giggled again, shaking my head as I waited for everyone to file in and say "surprise," or whatever.

Dr. Kadowaki entered a few minutes later, cheeks flushed and breathing fast. "Well, well. Look who decided to wake up." She stood beside me and began feeling my face, my glands, my pulse, and a variety of other things.

"It's not _that_ late, doctor, is it? It only seems about eight. I only don't understand why I'm here. Did I fall down the stairs in Winhill? Although why they would bring me all the way here if I just had a concussion is beyond me. Dr. Grayson in Winhill is wonderful."

I had to stop speaking as she used the tongue depressor and checked my throat and tongue, etc., noticing her occasional glances and quizzical expression. When she turned away and retrieved her other medical equipment, I continued.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, doctor. I'll be sure to tell Zell and whoever else was involved to stop playing pranks like this. Maybe he was able to get Ryan involved? It seems intricate enough for those two. It's very disconcerting to wake up in a different place and feel all wobbly from the sedatives or whatever they used. I'm sure Sub-Lt. Cmdr. Seifer is livid. I wouldn't want everyone to get in trouble. Although, he probably had a hand in it, too. We all know how much he likes his pranks. I will never forget the one he pulled on me in the elevator before the wedding. I still can't believe he said that to me. I was mortified."

"Breathe in," the doctor requested calmly, placing the stethoscope on my back.

I did so, smiling.

"Again." Then she nodded and began to examine my head with her fingers, shined that awful light in my eyes, and then stepped back with hands on hips and a single eyebrow arched almost completely to her hairline.

I giggled. "Doctor, I'm fine. I told you, it was just Zell and his silly pranks." I lifted my right hand with the medical ID tag. "Ryan or Zack probably thought of this, silly boys." But it made me love Zell all the more.

Dr. Kadowaki pulled up a tall stool from the corner of the room. "Sally, I need you to tell me the last thing you remember."

Face now crimson, I said, "Going to bed in Winhill at 22:00 hours sharp. Zell stayed up to watch a movie; I think it was a docudrama on the first Sorceress War—Oh. Wait. I remember getting up at 2:00 to let Hugo, our Mastiff, out for a pottie-break. Zell was in bed by then and I tripped over one of his shoes." My laugh was a nervous twitter.

The doctor lowered her gaze and adjusted her crossed arms. "And why would you be in Winhill?" she asked. Her voice sounded calm and serious.

"Why—?" My smile vanished. "Because we've opened a security station there. Zell and I are the administrators. We've been working there for almost three months now. Sub-Lt. Cmdr. Seifer is very… happy about how it's going."

Dr. Kadowaki lifted her head this time, her eyes dark. "And where does… where does he work?"

I blinked and my skin began to crawl. "What?"

"Seifer. Where does he work?"

Licking my lips, I gave myself time to calm a frightening flutter. "He's Head of Network Security. He works here in the basement office, as it's been converted into a security hub.…" At the twitch of her eyebrow, my lower lip began to tremble. "Doctor, you're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, Sally." She stood. "You've some very nice memories, my girl, but–" She suddenly shook her head and turned away, mumbling, "I better get Dr. Levinne and Matron." She paused at the doorway to my section of the infirmary and pointed toward me. "Stay in bed and don't talk to anyone, Sally. Understood?"

I mutely nodded, my eyes as wide as ever. With how my stomach gurgled, my face must have been as green as the grass outside. She pulled the curtain closed and I scooted under the covers, settling back into the pillows and clutching the top of the blankets. I stared at the ceiling with a frightened expression as I felt a collection of terrors gather in the corners of my mind. _Zell… Zell, I'm scared. _My throat tightened, and I squeezed my eyes shut tight.

A tear welled and escaped.

***

"Damn it!" The man slammed down the phone and stood, running his hands through his tousled dark-brown hair as he stalked around his office. Enclosed, it afforded him a reasonable amount of privacy; however, the glass walls allowed all to read and interpret the man's body language at any given point in time. Today, it wasn't so difficult for the others within the bustling television studio to hazard a guess as to the man's current mood.

He was pissed.

He dropped into his office chair so roughly his nameplate – reading Zackary Regal – clattered from his desk. He swiped up his phone and buzzed his secretary. "Ronda, get me—"

"Mr. Regal, Dr. Kadowaki from Balamb Garden is on the phone for you. Line three."

Zack paled, his hand tightening on the phone as his eyes focused on the pulsing light of line three. He cleared his throat and brusquely said, "Thanks, Ronda," before clattering the phone into its cradle. He continued to stare at the pulsing red light. Unnoticed to him, his hands began a steady rhythm of fisting and then relaxing, only occasionally interrupted by a quick swipe through his hair.

Ronda, sitting just outside his door, sent him a glance when the phone chirped a 30-second hold warning. Everyone knew the TV manager's sister, younger by about ten years, had been in a coma for the past 27 months. Each day Zack had sent at least half a dozen of their researchers on searches for specialists, psychologists, neurologists, and behavioral specialists to try to explain what no one could reason out: Why.

Unknown to Zack, there were two pools since two months into his sister's coma: 1) how long until she woke; 2) how long before her mind and body finally shut down. Ronda had invested in both.

Zack touched a button on the front right section of his desk and the glass of his office darkened. Then he released a slow and shaky breath, rubbed his palms on his wrinkled charcoal slacks, and retrieved the phone. He pressed the flashing line with a trembling finger. "Regal."

"Good morning, Mr. Regal. Have I caught you at a bad time? I can call again."

"No. You're fine," he said, his tone crisp. "Did you receive those work-ups yet?"

"Ah. Yes. Just this morning. I will be having them sent to your office directly."

"Did they reveal anything positive?" After two years of no answers and only more questions, an answer to anything would be "positive."

"Not that I recall, although that wasn't my reason for calling."

He closed his eyes. "All right. What can I do for you?"

"There has been a change in her status."

Zack's right hand fisted in his hair. "Positive or negative?"

"Positive."

Zack bolted out of his chair, but the doctor continued before he could think of what to say.

"That is all I'm able to tell you at the moment, Mr. Regal. I will keep you updated as always, but information, at this point, will be slower to come until I've had the opportunity to consult with a few of the people involved with her case."

"She's awake, isn't she?" It was the only thought his mind could hold.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Regal. I can only say that she's had a positive turn." He heard voices in the background before the doctor returned. "I must go, Mr. Regal, but I will keep you informed. Good day."

"Doctor, wait–" But the click of the terminating call was unmistakable. Zack slowly lowered himself back into his chair, staring at the telephone receiver with a blank expression.

"Positive turn" phone calls always came when there were upward spikes in brain activity. The past several months those spikes had even begun affecting her central nervous system, causing muscle twitches and movement in her extremities. One time she had even sat upright.

She had to be awake.

Zack twitched when his intercom rang its complaint at not having the phone in the cradle. He dropped it with a clatter and sat back in his chair, still staring at the phone even when Ronda buzzed a second time, this time the phone allowed to access its hands free feature.

"Mr. Regal, I received a report from Dr. Kadowaki at Balamb Garden. Did you want it—"

"Give it to me now," he ordered, standing to his feet and striding to the door at practically the same moment as the order. In fact, he jerked open the door and presented a hand for the report as Ronda answered, "Yes, Mr. Regal," to the intercom. She twitched, disconnected the intercom and handed him the sheaf of papers.

He slammed the door closed, drawing everyone's attention to the still-darkened glass of the soundproof office.

A tall man in his late fifties crossed his arms as he leaned against a supporting pole of the news room. "I bet his sister just took a turn for the worse."

A woman in a desk behind him hung up the phone. "You'd lose, Fitch. My source just told me she woke up."

Fitch focused on the woman with a look of disbelief. "You're kidding." She shook her head. He regarded the closed office door. "Why do ya suppose he's in such a piss-fit?"

"I doubt they informed him. You know how doctors seldom want the family intruding into touch-and-go situations like hers."

"You think we should tell him?" he asked, smirking.

"I'll tell him when I have the report ready for breaking news. Sure way to get a big bonus."

"Or get your ass fired," Ronda volunteered.

The woman shrugged. "I'm not going to report her awake until I can confirm my source, and if I can get a report prepared in the meantime, it's my wallet."

Chuckling, Fitch moved away. "Good luck with that, Desiree. You'll need it."

Desiree regarded Fitch and then Ronda for a long moment before focusing on her phone and dialing her next source the same moment she prepared her report.

***

There were running steps and then a high-pitched _screech-screech_ as a person hurried up to my bed and skidded to a stop. When I opened my eyes, I smiled and sat up just as Zell exclaimed, "Dude! You're awake!" Then he plopped down into the seat beside my bed, grinning at me as he leaned his arms onto the mattress. I continued to smile at him, speechless with relief.

"How ya feeling?" he asked.

"Alright," I croaked, and then motioned to the glass of water and straw. He passed it to me and watched me as I took a long drink. I flushed and handed it back. "Alright," I said again.

"Booya!" He briefly lifted his chin toward me. "Every time I came in here you had a smile on your face. Even when they were doin' that creepy muscle therapy/electrical stim crap you'd be smiling. Doc said no one's been in a coma as long as you and looked happy about it."

My face went ashen and my stomach lurched. " 'C-Coma'?"

"Yeah, ever since you pushed that junior classman out of the way of those T-Rexaurs." His face twisted up as he rubbed at his scalp, and I lowered my stricken gaze to my ringless hand. "What was it? Two years ago? Yeah… it was, like, four months after Ultimecia, so…." Then Zell once more lifted those beautiful blue eyes toward me and grinned. "Dude! I still can't believe you did that!"

He didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Not like he used to. Not like I _remembered_ him to do. I stared at the hospital blankets with a blank expression. _It can't be__…__. _But if I'd been in a coma for two years, that meant…. _All of it__…__?_

"I bet you'll be as good as new once you do some weight training to build your muscles. You can get back to classes, too. I bet Selphie can rig up a CPU in here. I'll ask her."

I could only nod, fighting back the vomit as my mind struggled with two very different realities. _Coma since__…_. But all the laughter, and tears, and… _how could it be__…__ nothing?_

Zell stood, giving my arm a gentle chuck. "See ya round, library girl."

The final thrust.

As the infirmary door closed, I looked down to the medical bracelet and choked back a sob.

**Patient:** Priscilla Elizabeth Regal, candidate

**Status:** Coma; 2 years, 3 months

**Location:** Balamb Garden

* * *

No words could describe the agony that coursed through the man's body when awareness faded in from the blackness. Groaning, he could do nothing more. Rage flared, but even that white-hot burst of energy wouldn't force the leaden weight of arms, legs, and head to shift. He couldn't even move enough to cause his bonds to make a fraction of a noise.

The groan became a growl as he fought off the heaviness, ignoring the wave of misery that ensued as a direct result. He only continued to focus on lifting his head at least – enough to look the enemy in the eye; to let them see the hatred that kept him going: day to night to day to night.… But the agony won and the blackness wrapped itself around him, pulling him under into nothingness that was too much like death while being only a whisper of life….


	2. Finding Me

_Two ~ Finding 'Me' ~_

I thought dreams were supposed to be a way for a person to hope for their future. Or they were supposed to be a small insight into what you truly feel or think about something or someone. That's what I had always thought. Then I found that dreams that seem so sweet and lovely could also be the most painful. What do you do when you don't have what you thought you did? Who do you get mad at for the stealing of a dream? Who is to blame for the loss of a fantasy? Of a _life_?

There's no one. Only a different life staring back at you. A different you.

That was a very scary thing to see when I opened my eyes. To realize I had to start over. One word had ripped everything out from under me: Coma. I couldn't understand it. How could everything have seemed _so real_ and be nothing but a dream? How could I remember my Fire Cavern test; my Field Exam; our first date; my job in security; our first kiss…. How could I remember so many years and have it all be untrue?

I sighed, staring at the ceiling while trying to keep from remembering my every moment with Zell. Trying not to remember how happy I had been. Trying not to visualize my "happily ever after" that had just been a life lived in fantasies…. It wasn't fair that I had to lose that life. There had been so many struggles to face. How could it be nothing? How could he still think of me as just "the library girl" when I had faced the agony of rejection to tell him how I felt!

Matron entered, sitting slowly into the chair to the left of my bed. "How are you doing this morning?" she asked.

I couldn't answer the question. Couldn't even _think_ of an answer. After all, I had just woken from a coma and found a different life waiting for me. I mean… how could she ask me that? Turning to meet her gaze, I didn't care that my expression looked lost and confused. I _was_! Nothing was the way it was supposed to be; nothing was as I had worked so hard to make it. Everything was so wrong. So different. So not… right.

Matron didn't smile or anything. She only looked back at me with an honest expression that I didn't know how to read. One that scared me. So I looked away, turning onto my side and clutching my blankets tighter against me to try and protect myself from a past, present, and future that I didn't want to admit was real. All my hard work. All my struggles. All my hope gone and leaving me no place to stand. I didn't have anything in this reality, and that made me cold inside. Afraid. Lost.

I wanted to go back.

To sleep.

To Zell.

***

Zackary Regal stalked back and forth in front of his desk, wireless headset keeping his hands free to fist at his sides or roughly point at no one in front of him. "Look," he barked, "it's been three days since the doctor there called to say there had been a quote-unquote positive turn to my sister's condition. I want some answers!"

His pacing halted for a long moment before resuming.

"Don't give me that shit, whoever-your-name-is. I received a file detailing the last work-up that had been done, and my specialist concluded that due to the rise in–" Zack clenched his jaw, his pacing ceasing yet again as his body went rigid. "If you don't give me a straight answer without referring to some cock-and-bull privacy code, I will pull whatever strings I can to have your facility shut down—

"Hyne's holy ass," he muttered. "Who's your supervisor? Put them on the line. What do you mean 'they're not in'? Never mind. Put me through to the head of your department. Let me guess: they're not in?" Face and neck reddening, Zack brought a fist down hard onto his desk, his nameplate clattering to the floor. "If you don't transfer me to _someone_ that can answer with something other than code and conduct rules, I will—" The line went dead.

Snatching the headset from his head, he tossed it across the room, curses flying as vehemently as the headset. It ricocheted from his collection of plaques of achievement and sent them crashing to the counter and then the floor.

The sounds of chaos drew a loud knock and insistent, "Mr. Regal? Do you need some help?"

"No, I don't need any damn help!" he barked, and he kicked his wastebasket across the room at the door for emphasis.

He needed answers and, as usual, Garden was less than eager to give him a straight one. Paperwork, chain-of-command, and the impenetrable wall of "brothers in arms" met him at each turn. Zack scrubbed at his scalp as he collapsed into his office chair with a deep breath. Patience had never been a strong point in his character, and now that his sister was out of reach behind Garden's perimeter, his phobia of being out of control drove him to do some things he normally wouldn't have done so quickly.

Like call in favors.

Zack muttered under his breath and snatched up his phone to punch in a number. "Hey, Dad. It's me. I got a call from Garden the other day. What about you? Yeah? Yeah. That's all they told me, too. Does Mom know? Good. How'd she take it? Oh, that's good." He ran a hand down his face. "No, I've tried all I can think of. Nothing. I thought maybe you or Mom could try. You're better at the 'charm' than I am." He smirked. "Yeah, Dad. I know. Anyway, I'll be over for dinner tomorrow, but not tonight. I'm going to work late and try some angles. I've got a source or three I haven't called yet. That and I think Desi is hiding something. She's been overly cheerful the past couple days." Chuckling, he nodded. "Yeah, Dad. You, too. Night."

He replaced the receiver and punched the intercom button. "Ronda, send Desi in. Thanks."

He slipped into his attitude of the "don't mess with me" boss and watched the door for Desi's entrance. He could get her to crack in less than 10 minutes, or he was losing his touch. Of course, if he hadn't been so distracted with Garden and Sally he would have called her on her change in attitude sooner, but a man had to have priorities. Now he had a feeling that her change in attitude had everything to do with the source of his distraction. He just had to find the right phrase to get her to confess, as it were.

Reporters hated to confess anything.

Desi tapped and entered the room, holding Zack's gaze as she sat in the chair across from his desk. She appeared ease, which was one of the main reasons she was one of his best anchors; nothing ever seemed to faze her. He doubted she would say it hurt if her hair was on fire.

"You needed something, Zack?"

He retrieved a pen from his desk, it had been a gift from his parents, and tapped a rhythm on the desk blotter. As he regarded her, he admitted that he had no idea how to get her to confess a possible bit of knowledge. She was one of those damn good reporters that held the story close to their chest until they were ready to submit it in its final form. Desi Reynolds had done it more than once since he hired her.

Finally, Zack chucked the pen aside. "Tell me what you know."

One of her eyebrows arched. " 'Know' about what, Zack?"

"The story is yours, Desi, if you tell me what you know. If you don't, I take it and assign it elsewhere. Clear?" The moment her fingers began tapping on her upper arm, Zack knew he had her. "Clear?" he repeated.

"It would be clear," she said, shifting her focus to her manicured nails, "if I knew what the devil you were talking about. Making vague threats about even less specific stories is definitely not the way to run an interview, be it of an employee or not."

_Hyne, she wants this story bad._ "Desi, you've been rather decent to live with the past few days. Ever since I received a vague phone call from Dr. Kadowaki at Balamb Garden, in fact. It leads me to believe that the phone call you received, and the phone calls you immediately made, have something to do with the one that I had." Zack stood, noticing her very slight change in rigidity of body. "But, if you'd rather have me re-assign the story of my sister's miraculous rise from the land of the sleeping death, by all means. Fitch has been pestering me for the opportunity of a 'heart-wrenching' story, and I'm sure this would fill that to a tee. Interviews with sobbing parents have a tendency of doing that."

Desi shrugged as she also stood, meeting him gaze for gaze. "You're the manager, Zack. Do what you need to do to make yourself feel better about your lack of information from Garden. I'm sure the Commander won't press charges for false information. I've heard he can be a reasonable fellow."

Zack regarded her. _Why the hell can't I charm anyone in this damned business?_ Releasing a quick breath, Zack turned away and motioned to the office door. "Get out."

She did, closing the door behind her.

Zack collapsed into his chair and stared at the phone, wondering if she based the report of being a "reasonable fellow" on her own experience. "Hell. Why not?" He snatched up the phone and dialed the number for Balamb Garden.

***

Matron sighed as I continued to stare at the ceiling, silent. She visited every day trying to get me to talk. But what was there to talk about? An eight-year long dream trapped in a two-year coma? The life experiences were nothing but shadows. It wasn't fair.

"You're right," Matron said in a quiet voice. "It isn't fair."

My throat tightened. With the loss of that other life, I had lost love. But, more than that, I had lost the experiences that answered the question: "Who am I?" I didn't know what I was going to do to get that identity back. Eight years was a long time.

"Tomorrow will still be there when you're ready," Matron reminded.

A silent tear escaped, but I didn't shift my gaze from the ceiling. Tomorrow didn't hold any promises for me anymore.

"Each day of your future is blank, waiting to be written—"

"I _had_ written it!" I snapped, the anger flaring as I faced her. "Birthdays, anniversaries, hard times, good times—" I shook my head and looked away, ignoring the tears.

"Until you face this reality and accept it, you won't be able to move on. If you can't move on, you can't step toward what you want."

I hunched my shoulders to hide the twitch.

Matron stood from the chair to sit on the bed beside me and grip my hands. "Everything is waiting for you to risk that first terrifying step."

A step I had taken so many times before. But this time he could say he didn't want to love me. How would I live through that when I had loved him for years, even if it had been a dream? I didn't want that ending.

"You can't have the life you want until you risk the step, Sally."

I looked away, biting my lip to keep from yelling at her. I had taken it once, so who was to say it couldn't end up the same way?

"You've seen a possibility," she said. "No matter how painful to know it is untrue, now is your opportunity to live life rather than dream what could happen."

She left the room and I continued to stare at the ceiling. All my hard work to get over my shyness and ask him out, to graduate, to do my job, to make the security station in Winhill work... It was all gone, and now I didn't know where I stood. Where I belonged. Where I could go... Why would I want to accept this reality?

I didn't have anything in this one.

Choking on a sudden sob, I covered my face with my hands and cried.

***

Zack tossed his suit-coat onto the couch and slumped down beside it. For the first time in his career in television, he didn't feel very much like the crack investigative reporter he was touted to be. A week and he couldn't get beyond the Garden switchboard.

"Dad's right. I'm going about this all wrong."

He let his head fall back, his arm draped across his forehead. He had to get his mind to think in the Garden mentality, even if it did rub him the wrong way. The whole idea of having a law within a law made Zack uneasy. How did someone control something like that? How could civilians feel safe when conventions in an organization like Garden surpassed the laws they enforced? They were mercenaries sold to the highest bidder. Kids trained to kill. He had never been partial to the idea of Sally going into that, but his parents had insisted it would be good for building character.

Zack lowered his arm and stared at the ceiling. If he didn't move beyond his suspicion, he would never get beyond that huge wall to the waiting stories he knew were on the other side. More than that, though, he would never get to Sally.

For the last two years, the doctor had only allowed him and his family to sit with her one time each month for no more than 30 minutes. His parents had never questioned the order. Whenever Zack had attempted to do so, his parents had objected. Why, he couldn't fathom, other than the possibility that Garden would revoke visiting privileges for some inane reason such as security.

"Bah!"

Pushing himself to his feet, he stalked to the spare bedroom that served as his office away from the office. He sat heavily to stare at the monitor. "Regal, pull your head out of your ass and think of something. Think outside the box of Sal-Gal's coma. Think beyond the 'brotherhood wall' and find the way in! The more suspicious you are, the more suspicious they will be of you, and you know that!"

Zack scrubbed at his scalp until it burned. Then he brought up his word processing program and started the draft of a letter addressed to three people: the Headmaster, the Garden Commander, and the Head of Security of Balamb Garden. He had heard rumors of a certain security issue that had affected a Final Exam mission about seven to eight months before. He had heard more rumors that Garden's own attempt to discover information had led to only more questions.

Very similar to the situation in which he found himself with his sister.

"How about a trade, gentlemen," Zack muttered, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he both typed the first draft and gathered the sources of information he would need to cite in order to grasp and hold their attention. "Just a little taste of what I might be able to offer."

The civilian world of information always seemed to turn a different way than that of the military, and Zack excelled at using turns to his advantage.

* * *

It was dark.

It was always dark, though the man could never tell if the darkness was the place, or what was left of his mind. A mind that held every memory like a drug-infected society cast-off clung to the last dregs of the misty high. No, the memories never lasted, but they remained clear enough to over-power the sucking and pushing that seemed to hover just within his ability to control.

He never lost control.

He never screamed.

He never pleaded.

Never.

That was what they wanted, and so it was the one thing he never gave them. The one part he never surrendered. The one memory of a self that he always found; one that burned the brightest when all others were as dark and silent as those he could feel near but never hear or see.

It was just too dark.

Always too dark.


	3. The Lost

_Three ~ The Lost ~_

Eryn Dwyre, Head of Instruction at Balamb Garden, sat in the cafeteria looking over several folders of a wide variety of paperwork: tests, placements, scoring, etc. Frustration marred her beautiful face. To her right, Andromeda. To her left, Raquel. The two SeeD had bickered back and forth for over an hour, and Eryn now found it difficult to keep her temper in check. Her patience had gone within the first ten minutes of their conversation, and her face mirrored her hair: red.

"I mean, she was in a coma for what? Two years?" Andromeda was asking. "I was available that whole time, and where was he?" Andromeda scoffed.

"Oh, I know," Raquel agreed. "It's amazing he's that oblivious." She nudged Eryn with her elbow. "Don't you think?"

Eryn just stared at her blankly.

Raquel sent Andromeda a glance, who shrugged, and then focused light blue eyes back on Eryn's smoldering emerald gaze. "What?"

"Does anyone know what time it is?" Eryn finally asked in an alto tone of controlled calm.

Andromeda looked at her watch. "It's 3:30. Why?"

Eryn took in a deep breath. "Oh, no reason. I just thought that I'd comment on the fact that you two have been bitching about the same thing for over an hour now."

Andromeda and Raquel exchanged confused glances.

"What do you mean?" Raquel finally asked.

"You know what?" Eryn slapped closed the folder in her hands, slamming it on top of the other near-dozen folders that hadn't been touched. "I am _sick_ and tired of listening to you two whine and complain because this boy or that boy hasn't paid you any interest. Are you both SeeD or are you a couple of 13-year-old girls fresh off the leash?"

Raquel and Andromeda stared at her, mouths open and eyes wide.

Eryn gathered the folders with a quick and rough swipe. "If I want drama, I'll pay 10 gil and see it on the big screen, at least that way I have the option of which airhead movie star I get to watch." She sharply pointed at one and then the other. "I never got the choice with you two."

Picking up her tray in her free hand, she stalked towards the door of the cafeteria and slammed her trash into the receptacle. Once she got to the door, she turned to face the two stunned SeeD left in her wake.

"Eat it, smoke it, shove it up your _asses_! Do whatever you want with your drama, but keep it _away from me_!" Then she shoved her way from the cafeteria to the corridor, nearly colliding with Commander Squall on her way. She pointed up at him. "You need to work on your screening process, or I swear to Hyne's Hell that I'm going to devise a way to cull this... this... AHH! Words _escape_ me!" she seethed, throwing up her hands and sending folders flying.

Commander Squall watched her a moment before casting a glance over his shoulder to the SeeD that had slowed their progress down the main corridor to try and determine what the noise was all about. He cleared his throat and crouched to help her gather her folders, tucking his own – marked confidential – under his arm.

Once Eryn straightened, folders in hand, she closed her eyes and released several long and slow breaths before focusing on him with a more calm expression. She even had presence of mind enough to salute.

Squall smirked as he saluted in return. "So, would this be a bad time to ask for your opinion on something?"

"Oh, I've always got an opinion."

"From a security stand-point," he pressed.

She presented her hand to the folder still held close under his arm. "Hand it over."

Squall did so. "Try to keep your reaction quiet," he warned.

One auburn eyebrow arched upward as Eryn shifted her focus from the Commander's expression to the folder marked 'CONFIDENTIAL.' She skimmed the information. "Holy shit," she hissed. She focused sharply on Squall. "Is he serious?"

"Considering the trouble he's made for Dr. Kadowaki on behalf of his sister, I think he's very serious. Just like I think he knows just how badly we want this information." Squall tapped the folder. "He knew exactly what to use as leverage."

Eryn lowered her scrutiny back to the cited bits of knowledge. "What the...." She turned the page. "What did Fujin have to say?" she asked absently.

"She wants to bring him in for... questioning."

Eryn chuckled. "I bet." She shook her head and handed the folder back. "I say work with him. I mean, he's right in what he says there: no one will work with us because we're Garden – suspicious bastards."

Squall absently nodded as he focused on the folder. "I agree."

"If he can find.... Well, let's face it. If he can find our lost team, than it's worth any possible security risk. And with him being involved with television, I can damn-well guarantee that he understands about privacy and keeping his sources more private than death."

Again, Squall nodded. Then he met her gaze and offered a very slight smile. "Thanks, Eryn."

"That's what I'm here for." Then she watched as he turned and made his way back for the elevator and his office. Once he stepped out of sight, she had to lean against the wall of the corridor for support. After a year of searching, they might bring one of their own back home.

***

Zack chucked his leather briefcase into his office chair and snatched up the phone on the third ring. He wasn't in the mood, but he would risk a moment of irritation on the off-chance it was someone of use. "Regal."

"Good evening, Mr. Regal," greeted a female voice he hadn't heard before. "Have I called at a time at which you're available? I had attempted to reach you at home, considering the hour, but there was no answer. An emergency of some kind at the office?"

Zack's eyebrow twitched upward. His home was an unlisted number. "There's usually always an emergency at the office, but I have a moment."

"Thank you so much for your time. I knew that you would want to hear any further information regarding your sister, and as I'm now able to give that to you, I called you directly."

His hold tightening on the phone, Zack did his best to sound concerned yet controlled. "There's been another positive change?"

"Quite a few these last several days, as a matter of fact. We've had her under close observation. Today, Dr. Levinne, Dr. Kadowaki, and I agree she's stable enough to warrant a visit from her family. In fact, we believe it will help her."

Zack slowly lowered himself into his chair, grabbing a fistful of hair to keep him calm. "And when you say 'stable enough', what does that mean, specifically."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. Sally is awake, Mr. Regal, aware of her surroundings, and in control of all her faculties. She's quite the wonder; startled an intern nearly to death when she sat up and asked for the doctor."

But Zack didn't hear. He had dropped the phone and covered his face with his hands, his eyes shedding those tears held back for the sake of his mother and father. Maybe even for his sanity. There had only been the research, the investigative reports, the specialists, the waiting information that he simply had to find in order to rescue his sister from the dark.

Sally had always been afraid of the dark.

"Mr. Regal?"

Quickly wiping the tears from his face and eyes, Zack cleared his throat and took up the phone. "Yeah. I'm here. Go ahead."

"There isn't much more to say, Mr. Regal. We're so very happy for you and your family, as I know you've hoped and wished for this day to come for so long."

"Can we see her? When can we see her? We've got to be able to see her, right?" _Regal! Get a grip on yourself, man!_

"Of course, Mr. Regal. I've left visitor badges for you at the security desk near the front gates. Simply retrieve them, I left one for each of you, register with the SeeD at the desk, and then you're free to head straightaway to the infirmary. The pass allows only limited access, specifically to the infirmary. If you need access elsewhere, you will need to apply and wait for a thorough check. Security, you understand."

"Understood. I won't need other access. Infirmary is good." He cleared his throat again, rubbing at his face and scalp alternately to convince himself he was awake. "Thank you for your call. I appreciate it."

"You're very welcome, Mr. Regal. If you need anything further, don't hesitate to call me directly. My name is Edea Kramer. I'll leave word with the switchboard to put your calls through. In fact, extend that invitation to your parents, as well. I know how horrible this long wait has been."

Zack wordlessly nodded. Then he gave himself a mental shake. "Um… thank you very much, Edea. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Regal. Very good. Then I will see you and your family tomorrow. Whatever time works best for you, the badges will be ready. Good evening."

"Good evening," he whispered, placing the phone onto the cradle and then simply staring at it as he fisted his hands into his hair. "Awake.... She's awake...." Awake from whatever darkness and silence she'd been hiding in for more than two years—

The mobile phone on his hip rang loudly, causing him to jump out of his seat. "Regal." At the joyful sobbing in the background, Zack smiled. "Yeah, Dad. I just heard. She's awake."

No, Sally had never liked the dark.

***

"Sally! Oh, thank Hyne! Sally...."

Then two sets of arms enveloped me, jolting me awake to the sounds of parents sobbing into my ear and hair. I blinked, trying to focus on the tall guy standing at the foot of my bed. _At least he's the same_, was what I thought through the fog while giving my older brother Zack a very tired smile. His thick brown hair, wrinkled dress-shirt tucked into wrinkled charcoal slacks brought back years of memories. Mostly, they were memories of me wanting to be like my cool older brother, the investigative reporter. For the first time in my life, I saw a tear in his hazel eyes as he smiled back at me.

"Hey, Sal-Gal," he said gruffly.

"Hey."

Then the barrage of questions ensued.

"Hold up there," Zack said as he stepped forward. "Let's get some chairs and give Sal-Gal room to breathe."

The laughter was a relief as they organized their positions around my bed.

"Now," Zack directed, "how about we have some semblance of order and take turns asking questions."

I giggled, grateful for his usual control of every situation.

"How are you feeling, hon?" my dad asked.

"Good." I tried not to think about the "considering" that should have been added at the end. I was alive when I could have been dead. I was awake when I could still be asleep. I had a life to live when I might not have had anything. "Good," I said again, forcing myself to ignore the missing metal on my left hand. Clasping my hands together, I gave a two-shouldered shrug and asked, "So, what's happened while I've been sleeping in?"

Zack was still manager of the television station and still looking for the exposé article that would win him an award. The information I was most excited about was the fact that things had warmed up between him and his ex-wife Sandra–I had apparently imagined him the second ex-wife. In fact, she had signed over partial custody of his three-year-old daughter, Joy. It had originally started as one weekend a month but, after six months, she asked if he wanted to do the "six-month split." Zack jumped at the chance.

The pet shop was still doing well, a second veterinarian working for them in fact, and there was talk of building an expansion. It was wonderful to have the same stories retold as a "Remember?" so they could give me updates. It made the starting over prospect not so bad. It gave me a foundation, and a better idea of where I would start.

That left me free to look ahead at where I wanted to go.

Sometime later, Dr. Kadowaki came and ushered my parents away, wanting to talk to them of my condition, recovery, and long-term plans for rehabilitation, more than likely. I had been through it once already with the accident in the library — I never look at bookcases the same — so I already had a good idea of what to expect. All of it would be hard work, but it was worth it if I finally lived a real life.

The doctor allowed Zack to stay behind, so he pulled the stool a little closer and gave my arm a nudge. "You look tired, munchkin. After all that sleep, I would think you'd look different."

Tall and just as handsome as remembered, the sameness I saw in Zack chipped away at the terror of not knowing how to separate my other reality from this one. "Weird, huh? I guess my body needs to wean itself from so much relaxation."

His smile slowly vanished to a more solemn expression; one that I'd never seen before. "We almost wrote you off, munch. Mom and Dad didn't say it, but I could see it in their eyes. They really didn't think you would wake up." He gave a slight shake of his head as his hand searched out mine. "I did all the research I could find on comas, but no one seemed to really know much about it. Pissed me off to no end, you know how I hate not getting answers. I mean—Hyne! I couldn't do anything!"

I tightened my grip of his hand.

"I guess I love you after all."

"You're such a goober!" I laughed.

Chuckling, Zack gave my hand a squeeze. "So, what was it like to lounge around 24/7 with that silly smile on your face all the time?"

I pulled my hand free and gripped the blankets. "I didn't know I was sleeping."

"How's that?"

I sent him a glance from under my lashes, wondering if telling him about my alternate life was such a good idea. "Erm...."

"Sal-Gal, don't even try to keep a secret from me. You know I can read you like a book."

"Well, I know, but it's just... it's just that it sounds really... weird."

"Weird? You're kidding me, right? Sally, I'm a reporter. I eat weird for breakfast."

I reluctantly giggled. "Oh, fine." I reached to the bedside table at my left and retrieved a mini-disc. "This is what it was like."

Slowly accepting the disc, Zack raised his usual eyebrow. "What exactly is this? Your coma is on this disc?" He met my gaze. "Is Garden able to record visuals of brain activity?"

"Um... not exactly."

"What kind of answer is 'not exactly'?" Zack protested.

"I…"

"Yes?"

"Zee, it's hard enough without you being pushy!"

"OK. I'm sorry." He pointed at the disc. "So this is…?"

"A journal of my memories."

"You have memories of your coma? The activity around you?"

I glared at him. "Will you just read it!"

Zack laughed and tucked the disc in his pocket. "OK, Sal-Gal. OK."

Smiling, I gave his arm a shove just as the doctor returned, parents following along behind. "I'm afraid it's time."

Zack gave me a kiss on the head. "See you later, munchkin. We'll do lunch some time."

"Please."

The removal of my parents was a lot more exhausting. Once they were escorted away, vocalizing promises to visit whenever they could, the doctor checked my vitals and myriads of other things before shooing me under the covers and standing over me until exhaustion settled in. Then I was ushered to sleep and the hope of a better dream....

***

"_Zell?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Did you want kids?"_

_Zell bolted upright and looked at me with wide eyes. " 'Scuse me?"_

_The ridiculous expression of shock on his face brought a giggle. "Not right now, of course. You've got your position and I've got mine and then there's Winhill and that, but... Do you? Sometime after our careers have settled down a little?"_

"_Sure. I don't know how I'll do with babies and diapers and crap like that, but I get a kick outta playin with the junior classmen." He grinned. "How come?"_

"_Well, I..." I reached up to tease the bottom of his tank-tee. "I'm just trying to figure what might be next." I sent him a quick peek. "And since we're married now... and we're going to Winhill soon, well, I thought that it might be nice to think about children," another peek, "and so I thought I should ask you how you liked them," another peek, and this time I noticed his expression had softened, giving me an internal swell and a flush of hot. "...what?"_

_Then Zell went down to an elbow and caressed my lips with a finger. "I'm still trying to figure how to handle being married to the sexiest and smartest lady in the Network."_

_I shyly giggled an "Oh Zell," and gave his shoulder a gentle push._

_He chuckled, gave me several soft and short kisses, and then resumed his previous position, this time wrapping his arms around me to hold me tight. "Winhill will be awesome for kids. There's a little school there, I think. One room, just like way-back-when. I guess there's only, like, six or seven kids altogether."_

"_It sounds wonderful," I admitted softly, returning to a stroke and play of his hair._

"_No doubt, with all the farms and ranches and stuff? It'll be great. Won't have to worry 'bout nothing. Practically."_

"_And kids should always have a safe place to live," I said, voice hushed in the euphoria of the possibility of a family with Zell._

_He nodded against me, his arms tightening slightly. "So, yeah. If we stay in Winhill like I want... Yeah. We'll have kids. Boys. Girls. I don't care."_

_My expression softened, and I released a silent breath as I closed my eyes and envisioned blonde and brunette alike, playing in the front yard. Swinging on a swing-set in the back. Making mud pies. Going over to friends' houses... "As long as you're their father..."_

I startled awake, glancing around the room at the infirmary as one reality overpowered the other. Releasing a deep breath, I pushed myself upright while mumbling, "Leave me alone," to the dreams that wouldn't let me forget what I hadn't ever really had.

My gaze dropped to the finger on my left hand, and I remembered the weight of a pair of rings. They had become a part of my hand, and yet the mark of their presence wasn't there. I let out a choked breath, morosely lifting my gaze in time to see Zell step into view. So soon after the vivid dream, my reaction was two-fold: extreme happiness and extreme agony. I once more lowered my focus to my now-clenched hands as my lips drooped downward.

"Hey, what's with the face? First day of physical therapy is _good_. Means you're strong and healthy, in the Doc's opinion."

I slouched back into the pillows with a whispered, "I know."

"Then what's the deal?"

He gave my arm a shove, but I kept my gaze lowered. I just couldn't look into his handsome face and laughing blue eyes without remembering our life together. One I could still feel glowing inside of me—in my dream I had just learned that I was pregnant. A tear dripped down my cheek the same moment I hiccupped a sob, looking further away so Zell wouldn't see.

There was a **squinch** as Zell sat down beside me on the bed, making me remember a day I had stayed home with a bad cold and. He had been all worried and attentive, making me breakfast in bed and hot soup for dinner....

"Say, what's the prob? Doc thought you'd be itching to get out of here."

Quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks, I forced a tremulous smile and nodded, trying not to sob at the concerned expression I saw in his blue eyes. I picked at the blankets. "Sorry for being a wuss."

He gave my arm another shove. "Well, sure, OK, but… Gee, you've got to cheer up. It's your first day out of here in two years. Who cares if you've got to work at it. You'll be moving!"

My smile relaxed into one a bit more natural, and I couldn't keep the memories from flooding back. "OK."

"OK." He glanced around the room. "Now where're your pants? We've got two hours of muscle work to do. First thing is to get you to stand and see where exactly we need to work most."

My eyes widened. "Y-you?"

"Ah-HA! There they are!" He stepped to Dr. Kadowaki's desk to grab up the sweats and t-shirt, and that's when I finally noticed he wore his usual work-out outfit: Balamb blue sweats and a gray t-shirt. "Of _course_ me. No one else is worth a damn." Zell tossed the clothes onto my bed and then sent me his remembered boyish smile. " 'Sides, I get out of class to do it." Then he drew the curtain.

"Oh, I see. I'm an 'out'."

I stared down at the sweats and t-shirt, remembering how our other friendship had begun – with a promise of hotdogs – and how our workout sessions had blossomed into something more. I cleared my throat and dressed, setting the memories aside. It was time to make new ones, and if I was going to put my whole heart into it, I couldn't keep remembering the old.

After slipping my legs over the side of the bed, I softly worried my lower lip. "Um... Zell?"

"Yeah."

"Last time I... last time I tried to get out of bed, I nearly fell down. Should I...?"

The curtain was tugged aside and Zell stepped in, hand extended. "Here. You do it, slowly, but I'll be extra support. You need to focus on getting up, not doing all the other crap."

My hand slipped into his with a remembered belonging that had me swallowing hard and unable to think what to do next. I had missed him terribly.

"Take your time."

Flushing, I sent him a glance, noticed he was intent on watching my legs, and breathed in deep before sliding forward.

"Don't put all your weight on your legs at once. Ease up to it."

I nodded, tightening my hand on his, and slowly eased as much weight onto my legs as they would hold before they began to threaten to buckle, still leaning my butt against the bed.

"Ah ah. Ease back a little," he ordered, giving my hand a push the same moment his other went to my hip for added support. "There ya go. Two years is a long time. You've got to work up to standing. After we do this for a bit, I'll grab the ankle weights and we'll do some lifts. We've got to build up your stamina again. Maybe later in the week we'll take a break and I'll wheel ya to the training center."

Nodding, I absently said, "Alright," even as my mind focused on his hands. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes.

"Wup. Muscles starting to quiver. Get back up there." Zell helped me scoot back onto the mattress and then released my hand to gather up the weights. "Let's do your arms next. Need to give your legs a rest. Need a break?"

I shook my head, forcing my eyes open as well as a smile. "No. I'm OK." At least, I would be. Once I had my life back. _But what if he doesn't want that life?_ I understood that life couldn't be structured. It had to be lived, and Zell had the right to live _his_ life, not mine.

* * *

The man could never trust if the dreams of the dark were his or theirs.

Sometimes they told a story. Sometimes they waited for a story. Sometimes they were dark, filled with the visions of vengeance that pulled him back from the darkness and the pain. Sometimes they held the faces of the dead. Other times the mocked him with the faces of the living. Still other times he only made out the sounds of running.

In his dreams he had run many times, or what he thought were his dreams. He had run toward something that had rang of freedom; had smelled of it… but then he woke to the agony of the reality they had given him and hadn't been able to tell if the dream was his or theirs; if it had been life or wishing.

No, the man could never trust the dreams of the dark.

Even if it were the last living place for hope.


	4. Two Sides of the Same Dream

_Four ~ Two Sides of a Same Dream ~_

Zack regarded the impressive multi-tiered Garden with crossed arms and a scowl.

Cmdr. Squall Leonhart had summoned him, basically, to discuss the promised exchange of information. While Zack didn't like the idea of being ordered around as a brainless soldier, he appreciated the quick action of being allowed to see his sister. That deserved his cooperation, and he was a man of his word.

"Don't appreciate being ordered to stand outside and wait for a security detail," he grumbled. But he would let them push back this time, if only to have dibs at the story of the century.

Prompt as expected, a male SeeD approached sporting a dual holster of .45s. Zack hadn't expected to see weapons worn on the campus of a military school/base. _A soldier's work is never done?_

"Zackary Regal? Security Officer Beita," he said, producing a visitor badge.

Zack accepted the badge and clipped it on his belt. "Lead on."

"Weapons search, sir."

"You're kidding."

"Arms out to your sides, please, sir." He unsnapped the holster strap for good measure.

"Oh for the love of— At ease, soldier. Search away."

SO Beita performed a cursory frisk before motioning onto the Garden campus. "After you, sir."

"Of course. Wouldn't want to risk an ambush."

"That's not my concern, sir."

"Ah. Of course not."

It still rubbed him the wrong way that military goons like this one surrounded his sister. Yet, if they were anything at all how she presented them, then he had misunderstood the whole concept of Garden for years. He frowned, reaching into his back pocket to withdraw the mini-disc Sally had given him. He had read her journal so many times that he had the first line memorized. _"Eight years is a long time to put into words, but this is my life. The identity I don't want to forget."_

Eight years wrapped up in a two-year coma. A 25-year-old mind trapped in a 19-year-old's body. An accomplished SeeD in her dreams, now, essentially, demoted to a simple candidate. And what accomplishments she had made! What friends! She had discovered herself and her strengths. She had found her place in this 'Garden Network' and excelled… and she had kicked ass.

Zack chuckled as he tucked the mini-disc back into his pocket.

"This way, sir."

Following SO Beita to the lift, Zack performed a cursory examination of the mall area and the candidates and SeeD that were present.

"Looking for someone, sir?"

The lift doors closed, interrupting his scrutiny of a short blond with spiked hair before he could get a complete look. "Not particularly." _Only a SeeD by the name of Zell Dincht._ Zack shifted his attention to SO Beita, who continued to focus ahead. SeeD always wore an attitude, and SO Beita was no different. If soldier Dincht had that same attitude, the two of them would need to have words regarding his sister.

The lift doors opened on the second floor and SO Beita stepped out. "Continue to the third, sir," SO Beita informed, reaching around to hit the appropriate button before Zack could exit.

"By all means," Zack grumbled as the lift continued its upward journey.

When the lift opened on the third floor, Zack stepped out into a small office that seemed more a miniature war room. Displays, tables, maps… it was all for a specific purpose, that being the plotting of an attack or defense.

The young man leaning against the desk, arms crossed, looked up at Zack's entrance. The scar across the bridge of his nose gave him a somewhat formidable appearance. _What is he? 19?_ The commander of a military station not old enough to drink was an interesting paradigm.

"Commander Leonhart? Zackary Regal." The Commander stepped forward. Like SO Beita, he wore a weapon—a gunblade. _Does everyone on this floating warship carry at all times?_ They shook hands.

"Mr. Regal, thank you for coming."

"Considering the care you've taken of my sister…."

Cmdr. Leonhart motioned to a chair as he made his way around the massive desk to his computer. "She's one of us, sir. We take care of our own."

The double-edged sword of the 'brothers in arms' mentality.

The Cmdr. pushed forward a manila folder stamped CONFIDENTIAL. Zack retrieved it while gauging the commander's expression, which didn't reveal a thing.

"Eight months ago Seifer Almasy and his team disappeared while on a mission."

"Details?"

Cmdr. Leonhart motioned to the folder. "All we have is there."

"It's pretty slim for eight months." Cmdr. Leonhart didn't reply. "Can you provide a summary?"

"A terrorist faction attempted to take certain prominent scientific minds captive. We had pinpointed their location, with Almasy's help, and planned a strike at their core. Almasy wanted to head the mission and I approved. Lt. Cmdr. Quistis Trepe and Lt. Cmdr. Xu accompanied him as SeeD observation staff."

"Observation staff," Zack repeated, thoughtful. "It was a Final Exam?"

Cmdr. Leonhart gave a single nod.

"There was an ambush, and Lt. Cmdrs. Quistis and Xu were able to escape. The faction took Almasy and his team captive. Investigations haven't revealed any sign of the faction or where they might have gone."

"Isn't Almasy too old to be accepted as a SeeD?" Cmdr. Leonhart didn't respond, hinting at a possible history between the kid and the captive. "Question withdrawn, Commander." Zack gave the information a cursory examination, trying to compare it with the reading he had done the night before from Sally's disc. "I will need to study this to make any sense of it. May I take this?"

"Your copy."

"Excellent." He met and held the Commander's gaze. "I need to know where you want me to go from here. If I find people tied directly with Garden, I don't want to suddenly find myself in the brig awaiting execution for treason."

"You find out what you can," Squall told him, "and we'll deal with the facts later."

"No, we'll deal with them now. I've got a little girl to take care of, and there's no way in hell I'm leaving her without a father because the Network Head had to do a cover-up/clean-up move. Either I get it in writing that I don't get screwed, or I walk and you can clean up your own damn mess."

The expression on Squall's face was his usual slight scowl. "Fine. I'll have a contract drafted right now." He dialed the legal department to have it put into the works.

"That's all I wanted to hear. I'll expect it on my desk no later than tomorrow morning. If it isn't there by ten, I walk." Squall curtly nodded, and it impressed Zack to no end. _He's got cool, this one. _"With that pesky business out of the way…." Zack stood. "I thank you for this information, Commander. As soon as I have more, I will contact you to set up a meeting. Sufficient?"

"Yes."

Zack lifted the folder. "You can trust me with this, Commander. Garden may itch me raw, but a source is a source and I take the information to my grave if need be."

The Commander smirked. "It may come to that, Mr. Regal."

"I don't doubt it." Zack extended his hand. "I can see myself out, Commander."

"SO Beita will escort you to the entrance."

He grimaced. "No secrets for this reporter, eh?"

"Not yet, Mr. Regal."

"I'll hold you to that 'yet', Commander." The military was always a good source of top stories.

***

Dr. Kadowaki wouldn't let me have visitors the first days of physical therapy.

Instead, my mornings before therapy consisted of all forms of tests. Even Dr. Levinne, our resident psychologist, came to perform tests. Physical. Mental. Emotional. They even tried to get me to agree to hypnosis.

Uh... no.

It made me feel freakish. I mean, I couldn't be the only one who had ever woken from a coma. But when I asked for any kind of information, they only told me I was doing well and I would probably be under surveillance for no more than another week.

I really missed my own room.

One time I woke from a nap after a healthy barrage of tests and found a small, stuffed pink bunny beside me on the bed. I mean, the cute little thing was only a smidgen bigger than my hand, sitting on its back haunches, and looking at me with an adorable expression of... cuteness. With no card, I couldn't say who it was from, and I didn't want to torture myself by thinking it was from Zell.

It was from Zell... right?

On day six, I couldn't take it anymore!

Whether sitting at the table, desk, or on my bed, I refused all tests with crossed arms and a frown. I had explained my stir-crazy feelings the day before, but they explained it away. Of course I knew the tests were important, but the stress of all the tests was making me crazy!

"This isn't like you," Dr. Kadowaki said as she lowered her clipboard and pen.

I adjusted my crossed arms, expression as sour as before – well, sour for me. My face began to hurt. "I refuse any more tests," I told her. "I am not a lab rat."

"Sally, the measures we've taken are for your well-being," she reminded.

But I refused to live my life in fear. I had spent too much time under that shadow before, and that was one lesson that had been pounded into me again and again in my dreams.

Dr. Kadowaki released a deep breath. "Very well. I will arrange for a short outing."

"Thank you, doctor."

Though she didn't look very pleased as she entered her office.

I smiled, lowering my focus to Bonny, the pink rabbit, who sat in silent congratulations on my lap. "Did you see that? I staged a sit-in and won." I gave her head a pat. "Janine would be proud of me." Which had me hoping there _was_ a Janine Larabie somewhere.

Janine. Jaxon. Sierra. Saerin. Harry. Ryan. Marshal.... They were all names and faces so vivid in my memory– _Wait._ _Marshal. I... I knew him before graduation. Before the Ultimecia fight, didn't I? He requested books from me in the library._ He hadn't transferred to Galbadia until after the Ultimecia fight. _Wouldn't we chat through our panels during tests on the message board?_ My expression fell. I couldn't remember and it felt like I had lost my best friend.

I waited a healthy 15 minutes for the promised 'outing.' Then I took matters into my own hands. When the on-duty SeeD interns were processing _other_ tests, I made my way to the wheelchair a few steps from my bed and stealthily wheeled myself from the infirmary. Once out in the corridor, I gave a nervous giggle at the rush of freedom.

Watching the SeeD and candidates pass on either side, I desperately tried to remember the first reality I had there. But I still had problems drawing the line of when reality had ceased. Maybe it would never be clear? Did it matter? Both realities made me who I am.

I halted my progress in the middle of the main corridor and adjusted the chair's position to face the outside. I still tried to get a feel for this Garden. While it seemed a lot like the other one, I felt like an outsider. I gathered the bunny close and snuggled my face into her softness—

A flash of red caught my attention. Three SeeD all dressed in black passed on their way to the Garden exit. One SeeD had the reddest hair I had ever seen and made me blink. _No, it couldn't be...Could it?_

"Saerin!" I called out. "Saerin Kael!"

The crimson-haired SeeD halted and turned to face me, her beautiful porcelain features registering confusion. The resemblance to my dream was uncanny, and I couldn't stop my hand from covering my mouth as the leader made her way over to me. _Did she...could she be...?_ But I was so overwhelmed with hope and terror that I couldn't say a single word.

"My name is Eryn Dwyre," she corrected, sending my hope into oblivion. "Have we met before? Forgive me, but I'm drawing a blank."

"Oh..." _I guess it was too much to hope for..._ "No. I'm sorry.... You just remind me of someone I once knew."

"Oh." Eryn sent a glance to the SeeD that had come to stand on each side of her. Then she produced a hand. "You are...?"

"Sally. Sally Regal." We shook hands.

"Regal..." Eryn blinked and sent another glance to her fellow SeeD, who began muttering and whispering amongst themselves. When Eryn again focused on me, she asked, "Are you the candidate that was in a coma? What was it, a year or so?" Eryn's emerald eyes practically swirled with curiosity and incredulity.

"Two years, actually," I corrected. _Don't remind me...._

"Has it been that long already?"

I suppressed a grimace.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Sally."

The other two SeeD, Raquel and Andromeda, repeated much the same sentiment as they also introduced themselves, shaking my hand each in turn and offering me smiles that didn't make me feel better. Though I really tried.

"Knowing you lived through such an ordeal... It... it gives me a great deal of hope."

"Hope? What do you mean?" I couldn't see how my lost life could give _anyone_ hope. It certainly didn't give me anything but miserable moments of... _oh who knows_...

Eryn sent me a small smile as she shook her head. "Never mind." She again offered forward her hand, which I accepted. "I'm the Head of Instruction here, so if you need help with anything at all, don't hesitate to ask. I'll do my best to work with doctors Levinne and Kadowaki."

"Alright. Thank you."

"Welcome back, Sally." Then Eryn gave my hand one last grip before and leading her group out of Garden.

"It was nice to meet you Eryn," I whispered. I lowered my gaze to Bonny's blank expression. "Again and again and again…."

My chair suddenly rolled forward, causing a squeak as I looked behind me—I blinked at the somewhat familiar SeeD. In his uniform, he cut a very professional picture, especially with his 'don't mess with me' attitude. The man had short-cut dark hair – spiked on top – silver-blue eyes, and a natural tan. He stood taller than Zell by about six inches.

Of course, a lot of people were taller than Zell.

He seemed _so_ familiar, especially with the twin .45s peeking from under his jacket. "Marshal?" When he sent me a wink and a flash of white smile, I felt as if I could have floated away. _He's real! He wasn't just part of my dream! _Before I could stop myself, I hugged his arm. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Thank you, but you aren't supposed to be out of the infirmary, Candidate Regal."

I grimaced. "I know, but after so many days of tests, I got stir-crazy!" I lifted Bonny. "And she wanted a walk... er... hop." Marshal's lips twitched upward, but he didn't look down. I lowered the bunny. "Why did they send you to find me?"

"I work in security specifically to find wandering souls. SO Beita at your service." He glanced down. "Besides, I saw you just sitting there and thought you might be lost. You were out for a long time."

"I know." _Sometimes I wish I were still sleeping._ "So what's new with you? Last time I remember, you were studying at Galbadia." I felt as if I updated a decrepit database.

"Graduated. Transferred back – the politics at Galbadia really suck – and now trying to help get the Network up." He shrugged. "That's about it."

"What seems to be the problem with the Network?" I shifted around in my chair enough to watch his expression. "Is it software or hardware?"

"Hardware's been checked," he informed. "Software's great."

"And?"

"And you don't have high enough security clearance to ask that question, Candidate Regal."

His smart-alec attitude and good looks were just as I remembered, and I was _so_ happy about that. It took away a lot of the 'limbo' feeling to this reality. "How come I can't ask about the Network?"

Marshal sent me a glance before turning down the corridor leading to the infirmary. "That subject is off-limits."

"But—"

"I'm sorry, Sally," he said in a quiet tone. "I can't."

I slumped into the wheelchair with a sigh. "I guess I know that."

"Don't you know the saying about curiosity killing?" Marshal reminded. "They try and say it was a cat, but I think someone more important needed to die to get parable ranking."

I snickered, relief at his sameness making me giddy.

"I think Galbadia Garden was behind the whole thing."

I tried to laugh, but the closer we came to the infirmary hallway the more miserable I felt. Finally, I turned and met his gaze, trying to give him the most pleading expression in my repertoire—it wasn't a very big repertoire, and I doubted how successful it would be.

"Please don't take me back to the infirmary yet."

Marshal didn't answer. In fact, he looked away while he continued to push my wheelchair toward the hallway.

I sighed. "Well, Bonny, I don't think SO Beita is going to let us escape. He's caught us, and now we're off to more tests." I released a deep breath and sat back in the wheelchair. "I'm tired of answering questions and being poked and prodded. I need to get on with things, Marshal. How can I do that when every time they ask me a question it reminds me I was in a coma, and that the life I remember in my dreams didn't happen?"

"They want to make sure you're OK."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but... I want to get back to work." I blinked back a tear as I remembered just how much I came to love my job. "I _need_ to get back to _something_, only... It isn't there waiting for me anymore. Not unless I make it happen. I can't do that if I'm always in the infirmary." Shaking my head, I sniffed. "Candidates study, don't they? Why am I the only one that gets to _be_ studied?"

Marshal turned down the corridor leading to the infirmary, but then he halted. After another second, he pulled back and continued around the main corridor.

I turned in the chair, looking up at him and trying to figure out what he was thinking by the serious expression on his face. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to class."

Smiling, I turned and gave Bonny an excited squeeze. "Oh goodie!"

Marshal chuckled. "It's my ass if we get caught, Candidate Regal, so you better pay good."

Giddiness couldn't describe what I felt as we took the elevator up to the second floor. After being in a little room surrounded by beeps and lights and moving needles while being asked questions that affected how the two doctors treated me? I was definitely ready for the large classroom and the familiarity of my console. As he wheeled me down the hallway and took a right, I began to remember both reality and dream, which led to a giggle and a soft clap of hands.

"You always were excited about schoolwork," Marshal said. "You remember doing those text-based adventures when Teach thought we were doing assignments?"

"Oh yeah! I still think you should make them into a book."

"Psh. I can't write to save my life. You do it."

Considering how easy it had been to write the memoirs of my eight-year dream life, it didn't sound like such a bad idea. "Maybe I will. Do you still have the transcripts? You always were a packrat when it came to things like that. A hoarder."

"Look who's talking! I was in charge of archiving your station and found assignments and papers from every term."

"You never know when you need something!"

"Assignments?" Marshal asked, his expression screwed up in a frown of disbelief.

I laughed. "OK. Maybe not assignments….Did you erase them?"

He smirked. "No, I didn't erase them. They're on a collection of discs in your room, organized and labeled just as you had them on your station."

"Whoo-hoo!"

"Being in a coma couldn't have been so bad as to run head first back into school, Sally. The doctors said your brain was pretty active. Like a dreamer."

My smile wavered. "That's why."

"What does _that_ mean?"

I shook my head and mumbled, "Nothing."

Marshal didn't push it, which surprised me a little. He used to nag me to death in our online chats when I didn't want to talk about something. Instead, he wheeled me into the classroom and to my old position in the front right portion of class.

"We'll just do an overview," he said. "There was a group of intermediates in here last class period, so the tests are already cued. Just refreshers, understood?"

I nodded, the smile returning with the giddiness. I was happy to do _anything_ that didn't involve medical references. The eagerness in my expression made us both laugh. So, once situated behind my control panel, Marshal pulled a chair beside me and navigated to the intermediate placement tests used that morning.

Heart racing with expectation, I took in a deep breath—I looked over at Marshal with wide eyes. "Is that _cologne_ you're wearing?"

"Huh?" Marshal lifted the lapel of his uniform and sniffed. "What are you talking about, cologne? I don't have time to buy fancy face water."

I pointed at his gel-spiked hair. "What is that?"

"Hair?"

"No!" I protested, laughing. "The gel you use. What is it?"

"Psh. I don't know. The first thing I grab at the PX? No. No, wait. My mom got me this for my birthday."

"Well, it smells really good. You should look at the bottle and tell me what it is so I can get it for you for your enrollment anniversary. I like it."

Marshal scratched at his scalp somewhat self-consciously, and his ears even looked a little pink. Then he gave me a slight shove. "Just look at the screen, Candidate, and take the test."

"Oooo. Marshal's embarrassed," I teased, giggling.

He stood and began wheeling the chair away.

"Don't!" I squealed, grabbing his hands. "Marshal!"

He met my wide-eyed gaze with a mischievous expression. "I've got all the power, Candidate Regal. Your choice: tests, or teasing?"

Laughing so hard I couldn't even speak, I pointed back to the console.

"OK then. Quit being a screw off."

I nearly fell out of my chair.

Marshal set me up in front of the consol yet again, making certain I was comfortable before locking the wheels in place.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on each side of the screen as I cupped my face in my hands and read, remembering my candidate days with a slight smile. They had been fun days of studying, hanging out with friends, and knowing that something different waited down the road. Now I had a chance to have that again, and this time I wasn't going to be wrestling with fear. This time I could be the 'self' that I had been too afraid to show before. That made me excited to see how different and yet the same my future could be. I only had to take a step at a time.

Even I could do that.

Marshal let me take a couple practice quizzes first to get me ready for the idea. Then he opened the first intermediate test and let me at it. Each time I got a perfect score, he went to the next one. "Hell. Why not?"

It didn't seem any time had gone by at all when I hit the first tests that actually gave me pause. Each time I hesitated over a question, Marshal prompted me to re-read it aloud. Then he gave a hint of which portion of the scenario or question to focus on to access the answer. Each time he did, he leaned closer and touched the screen, looking up into my face with an expression of attractive seriousness I remembered from my dream—when he had helped me study for my Security Officer exam. Each time he did, I felt a little hiccup that scared me. It was like—

I shook it off and focused on the question, frowning as I tried to shoo my focus back into order. Reluctantly the focus returned, and I coaxed my studious habits back from their duty of studying _my friend! _I reminded myself.

"Last question."

"But–"

Marshal pinned me with that serious, silver-blue expression. "Sally, you gave me your word."

"I know, but..." But I was confused and I didn't want to go back to the room with the poking and prodding and the questions that I didn't know how to answer. I wanted to stay here where I had some control, where I was comfortable… mostly.

He chose the question and tapped the screen. "No. Last one. No argument."

"Oh all right," I grumbled as I focused on the screen and the question _'Was my sister dead in your dream?'_ My smile vanished and I blinked back the tears.

I felt more than saw his quick glance as my brain tried to think past the shock of the question. A part of me had hoped that the death of his sister had been something I concocted. But…. I folded my hands in my lap and sat back in the wheelchair. There was no way I wanted to answer that question, not even with a shake of my head, though I knew that was an answer of itself.

Marshal swore under his breath, giving the console a firm pound that caused a sharp beep.

"I'm sorry, Marshal," I whispered, afraid to look at him because I knew how he felt. Neither one of us would be the same because of the loss of a single person.

"I thought—Hell. I don't know what I thought." He stood, his chair clattering over as he took a firm hold of the wheelchair handles and pushed me somewhat quickly to the door. "I guess having her in a dreamlife was an 'out' for me. Closure? Who the hell knows?" he grumbled.

Staring down into Bonny's placid eyes made me think of Katie, his sister, and the stare of death that tortured him night after night— "I'm sorry."

"Don't. Not your fault. I'll deal."

But how could he deal when there was nothing good to take from that particular bad history? As far as I could recall, he hadn't even been able to find the people responsible. It was no wonder he didn't have closure! _I could give him closure._ All I had to do was talk about it—the other life I tried to forget.

Marshal wheeled me into the elevator and punched the lobby call button. When his hand returned to the handlebars, I could hear the grip of flesh against plastic. _You have to do something, Sally!_ I turned and tried to meet his gaze. He didn't cooperate and continued to glare ahead. "Marshal, I could… I could tell you something that might help you. At least a little."

He clenched his jaw, his grip again squeaking the handlebars. "I'll deal."

My throat tightened and I blinked back the stinging of tears. "I know you will. You always were a tough guy, but—"

This time his silver-blue gaze met and held mine. "Sally. Don't." If I hadn't known him so well over the years of my candidacy, I would have thought he was angry at me. "Leave this one to the demons in the dark."

"Even though I have a candle?"

"Yes."

I turned back, worrying my lower lip as I fiddled with Bonny's ears. Then I reached forward and pulled the emergency stop switch. The lift jolted to an immediate stop and a bell sounded an alarm. I muted the intercom before facing Marshal again. Even under his tan I could see he was a bit on the pale side, and his knuckles were whiter than white as he gripped the wheelchair.

"Sally—"

"You're my friend, Marshal." He twitched, which I didn't understand, and shifted his gaze to the far wall. "I can't do nothing."

"And just what can you have to say that would put Katie back where she should have been?" he asked, deceptively calm. "Dreamlife isn't enough. You know that."

"How about vengeance?"

Marshal's grip shifted from the chair to my arms so fast I barely had time to gasp. I had never seen eyes that dark before. "Who?"

"In my dream, you and Fujin went into Winhill to investigate—"

"Who was it?" he pressed again, giving me a slight shake. "Holy Hyne, Sally, tell me who the hell mutilated my sister!"

"A radical faction that wanted to annihilate Garden. You killed them. You killed them all."

Marshal's head fell forward and he choked out a sob, his hands tightening on my arms. Then he drew me close, wrapping me up in his arms so tight that I struggled to breathe. My heart pounding in my chest, I lifted my arms and held him, not knowing what to think—

He lifted his head and cupped my face in his hands, tears marring his face. "Thank you," he said gruffly. Marshal brushed my forehead with a tender kiss that scattered my brain and sent my heart elsewhere in panic and… _what?_ When his intense gaze met my more dazed one, I couldn't get my brain to function. Then he lowered his head and kissed me with a gentle firmness that was so far from innocent…. Sally Dincht scrambled backward, desperately trying to find the wherewithal to slap his face. But Sally Regal stood rooted to the spot, shocked still by the Firaga firecracker that went off in my brain.

…._M-Marshal?_

Sally Dincht screamed at me to back away but… I couldn't. Something… something clicked in my head and I found myself returning his kiss with a cautious one of my own. My limbs trembled, and I must have kicked over a firebomb that set off a cascade of firas and firagas in my brain when he answered my kiss in kind. Intense but... not and… and it felt… right? Did I want Marshal to be kissing me like that?

He pulled back, his hands still cupping my face, and I could feel his breath on my flushed cheeks. "I've been wanting to do that since I saw you hugging that damn bunny I got you," he confessed roughly.

Bonny—_Marshal?!_ I swallowed hard, but I couldn't make my eyes open. I couldn't let go of his arms either. I just stood there, my knees wobbling as I wondered, _What did I just do?_

"You didn't seem to remember," Marshal said, pressing his lips on my forehead with such softness that I thought I would cry. "But then… then I thought, maybe…?" He caressed my cheeks with his thumbs. "You remember, right?"

"…remember?" I swallowed hard, still unable to do much more than grip his arms.

His lips brushed mine. "Us."

* * *

The man in the dark remembered having power. He remembered a sword and strength. He remembered blazing fire.

The fire seemed to burn in the back of his brain as he focused on it, trying to remember at the same time he tried to call it back. In a place where there was nothing but dark, a little fire would have been a blessed change. Something more than the nothing he slipped to each minute that seemed an hour. He wanted to bring back the fire so that he could have a bit of warmth in place of the cold.

Something different from the chaos. Something to burn, brightly. Something to control.

He called it again. And again—The blaze flared in the back of his brain and held, sputtering and struggling against an exhaustion that always welcomed the darkness too soon. The fire kept it back this time. He wrapped the warmth around himself and held it tightly, even when his body shuddered with the effort. He didn't want to go back to the darkness without the flame. The sword. The control.

The fight against the chaos.


	5. Day Seven

_Five ~ Day Seven ~_

Day seven of my workout sessions with Zell brought a knot in the pit of my stomach. Not only were memories of a previous "day seven" clubbing me over the head, but I still reeled from the elevator incident with Marshal. I don't remember what I said to his question about "Us." I didn't even remember being wheeled to the infirmary. All I _did_ remember was how it had felt to be kissed by a guy I thought of as a friend. My lips still throbbed, and I felt as if I had just committed adultery—all at the same time!

I hadn't yet dealt with that by the time Zell showed up.

"Vacation time for you today," he told me as he wheeled up a chair. "You've been working like a fiend, so we're going to hang in the T.C. and do light stuff. Maybe walk around a little, if you're up to that."

_Day seven... training center...._ I cleared my throat and lowered my gaze to my clasped hands. "Um... can we just wheel around Garden instead?" I hated the fact that I was stuck between two incredibly wonderful guys and _didn't know which one to say 'no' to!_ It should have been a clear-cut answer, right?

"Sure thing," Zell said absently. He offered a hand to help me up, supporting me at the hips as I very carefully walked those few steps to the chair. I regretted the request of wheeling around Garden once we had started. True to my impression of him, he began making **vroom** noises and screeching through the halls at incredible speeds, reminding me of the day I got myself a concussion from falling face-first into the road on the way to Balamb.

Gripping the arms of the chair, I tried not to throw up.

When we turned into the side-hall leading to the cafeteria, a feeling of dread bore down on me. Zell had slowed the chair by this time, yes, but the closer we drew to the cafeteria, the brighter the memory of how my entire non-existent life with him had begun: the fateful sharing of hotdogs and the title "hotdog fairy"....

"Francine requested a side-quest," Zell said. "I told her I would, so I'm toast if I forget."

I forced my death-grip of the chair arms to loosen as I mumbled that it was OK and that I would like to visit with her. Too bad it was as far from the truth as possible. There was a fear, and a sick little hope, that I would see Marshal.

If we were an 'us', what would that mean for me to still be fawning over Zell? _Was_ I fawning? And why couldn't I remember Marshal as anything more than a friend? I remembered that we had great times together online, both when we were studying or just chatting. I remembered when he would come over and visit me here at Balamb when Selphie scheduled events, but couldn't recall if that was dream or reality. I rubbed at my throbbing head. _Why don't I remember Marshal as a boyfriend? Why?!_

"Here," Zell said, releasing his hold on the chair and going around. "Let me hold the door while you wheel yourself in. Doc would be pissed if I wheeled you back with a huge bruise."

I offered him a small smile and continued my forward progress, Zell holding open the swinging door. The boyish grin he sent me was cuteness itself, making my heart go pitter-patter, but it also racked me with guilt because of kissing Marshal. I looked away—

"_Surprise_!"

A crowd of at least a hundred candidates, SeeD, and instructors shouted as one roar. My mouth dropped open and I looked to Zell with wide eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows at me, every inch the mischievous boy I remembered. "What did you do?"

"I said you'd been working like a fiend," he informed, "and fiends get dibs on parties." Zell pushed my chair toward the approaching group. "Come on, party girl. I want some hotdogs and cake."

It was over hotdogs and cake that I found out Cmdr. Squall awarded me a medal after the accident, now displayed in the library beside the Certificate of Excellence after my first injury—at least _that_ actually happened. I didn't have the heart to tell them I didn't want the medal. They were all so excited that Cmdr. Squall would have given something like that to a candidate.

So I just said "thank you" and focused on my partially nibbled piece of white cake, hoping they wouldn't make me give a speech at the same time I hoped that Marshal would and would _not_ be there.

He wasn't, and they didn't.

Zell nudged me with his elbow some time during the party, giving a wink and a cute expression of 'Isn't this cool?' as he served himself what must have been his fourth slice of cake.

_Why couldn't you kiss me? I had a crush on you for years, so why didn't you ever notice?_ It must have been too much, and Marshal must have finally asked. Why couldn't I remember? I would want to remember something like that, right? But, then, why did I dream such a happy life with Zell? Why did I dream Marshal in love with Fujin? Had I not been over Zell? Was I still not over Zell? But, then, why did it feel so wonderful to be kissed by Marshal?

I nearly grabbed a fistful of hair to get the questions to stop. None of it made sense. At all!

"Hey, Zell!" Selphie Tilmitt sat in the chair next to him and gave him a soft shove. "I told you she'd love it, didn't I?"

Zell grinned, not bothering to choke a response from around his mouthful of cake. Selphie focused on me, leaning forward and in front of Zell with hand extended. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Sally. We missed having you around. In case you don't remember, I'm Selphie. I helped Zelly put this all together."

Zell, his cake now hidden on the other side of Selphie, lightly frowned before feigning taking a bite out of her back. She squealed, "I'm not your cake, Zelly, sheesh!"

The scene looked so much like... how we used to be. Swallowing hard, I lowered my gaze to my cake. Do you know what it feels like to be kicked in the stomach? _I'm going to throw up._ It was just too much all at once. Too much to try and remember, to take in!

"No one should ever get between a man and his cake," Zell informed seriously, drawing his plate of cake closer. "Everybody knows that, Selph." He looked toward me; I could tell by the hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. "Tell her, Sally. Isn't that right?"

My pretense for not looking at him was cutting a particularly sized bite from my cake. Instead, I nodded and said "Uh-huh" in a voice I hoped sounded normal. _Selphie and Zell...._ It had always been a possibility. They were close, they had fought evil together, and they were both so much alike. Yes, it had definitely been a possibility. Maybe that was why I had said 'yes' to Marshal?

Selphie patted the top of Zell's head. "Sorry, Zelly— Oh! I asked Squall if I could setup a CPU in your room at the infirmary and he said it would be OK. So, I'm gonna take your old one and put it in there. The tech guys can do that next week, I think is what they said. Dr. Kadowaki won't let us have you involved in candidate classes until then."

"OK," I whispered.

"Quistis is your instructor this term," Selphie informed. "But if you want a transfer, Quistis said that's fine. Her schedule is really busy and so she won't be able to come to the infirmary very often."

"I could do it," Zell offered. "I don't have as many classes as Quis and the others. And we get together anyway to do the workout stuff. We could just do it then."

"You sure?" Selphie asked him. "I thought you hated teaching."

I stared at Zell. He had always loved teaching in _my_ reality. Lowering my gaze, I caught myself wishing for an excuse to leave. Could I feel any more disconnected? Probably not.

"I don't hate it," Zell protested. "It's the homework that sucks."

Selphie laughed. "Alright, fine. Anyway, I'll ask Squall if the transfer is alright. He probably won't care. He and Quis are getting ready to leave anyway."

"It's that time already?" Zell asked, the seriousness in his voice drawing my attention. "Geez. Seems like they just got back."

"Yeah, I know." Selphie released a deep breath and then stood, resting a hand on Zell's shoulder as she focused on me. "Congratulations and everything, Sally. I'll be sure to let you know as soon as your classes are going to start. OK?"

I nodded, not willing to risk my voice.

When she focused on Zell, she smiled while giving him another pat on the head, further enhancing my confusion and misery.

Once she turned to mingle in the crowd, he focused on me. "You feeling OK? You're a little yellow."

"I guess I'm just tired."

"Should we go? We've been here about an hour, so I guess it's OK. There's just a lot of talking and stuff going on. I don't think they'll be too pissed if I take you back."

The way he sent worried glances over his shoulder to the exit made me melt and put on a brave face. "I'm alright. We don't need to go yet." The last thing I needed was to be alone with my thoughts at the moment. I motioned to the punch and soda. "Maybe just a clear soda or something?"

"You sure?" he pressed. "We can go. I promised the doc I wouldn't let you stay out too long. I swore."

Still smiling, I gave his upper arm a rub before I could stop myself. The tingle that shot up my arm almost made me cringe. "I'm good for another... 30 minutes?" How could I be like this with two different guys?

He regarded me with a thoughtful expression, tapping his fingers on the arms of my wheelchair before giving me a boyish smile and heading toward the punch. I watched him go, my smile fading. _How are you going to do this, Sally?_ _How are you going to keep from looking at him like you're in love with him._ And how was I going to look at Marshal the same way I did before? Especially since I couldn't remember anything!

My sigh sounded like a whimper as I lowered my gaze to my clasped hands, not looking at the place where my rings should have been.

***

I yawned again and felt a tap on the crown of my head.

"You weren't kidding when you said '30 minutes'," Zell said.

"I've never been good at big parties," I admitted. "They tire me out really fast." Although our wedding had been one big party after another, and I hadn't fallen asleep until nearly two in the morning, snuggled in Zell's arms.... I cleared my throat and shoved the thoughts away with an outward grip of the arms of the wheelchair.

"Oh. Well, I guess I shoulda done a smaller one like Doc said."

Yawning for the fifth time in five minutes, I shook my head. "No, Zell. It was fun. At least, I had a lot of fun watching everyone." Watching while trying to reason out where I would want to fit. I was so different from before and, staring at the medical ID tag on my wrist, I had to remember how 19-year-olds acted. I hadn't been 19 for, what?, six years?

The wheelchair slowed as we made our way down the side-hall from the cafeteria. "Kinda reminded me how Seifer would always watch people," Zell suddenly admitted.

His voice sounded odd, and the past tense of the statement terrified me. "Isn't… isn't he in security?" I couldn't imagine him doing anything but security for any place other than Garden. It wouldn't be Garden without Seifer Almasy.

Zell cleared his throat and I heard the creak of his hands adjusting their hold on the grip of the wheelchair handlebars. "Kinda sorta."

"What?"

"He… erm… Seifer's missing."

Shock wouldn't let me speak.

"I can't really say anything else. Classified."

All I could do was shake my head as I fought back the tears.

The rest of the journey to the infirmary remained quiet. Everything about this reality was so different! I was afraid to ask questions about it for fear that something else would pop up and hit me in the face.

Dr. Kadowaki wasn't in, so Zell wheeled me to my cubby and helped me to my feet. Then he wrapped my arm around his neck and shoulders and scooped me up into his arms.

"But—"

"Nope," he interrupted. "You're tired, so there's no way I'm gonna make you walk and then climb. You'd fall on your head and get me killed by the doc."

"She wouldn't either, silly boy," and the endearing tone was out before I could stop it. I flushed crimson, content to have an innocent expression on my face when he sent me a glance. "Her bark is worse than her bite," I continued, my tone under control.

Talking like this while knowing that Marshal believed we were a couple… I felt like an absolute slut.

"Yeah, well, I've been bitten by her a couple times. It hurts."

I sent him a reluctant smile as I adjusted my arms around his neck, remembering a knightly rescue, a wedding-night jaunt, a honeymoon realization—I shoved the memories away as he placed me carefully on the bed.

Forcing a smile, I met his gaze. "Thank you." At that moment I was glad I couldn't read his expressions. I couldn't take any more doubts about who felt what when I didn't even know what I felt about anything!

He rubbed at the back of his neck as his gaze remained focused on my knees. "I'm giving you a day off tomorrow, so just do those exercises from yesterday and we'll call it even."

"Alright."

"Here, let me help you with your shoes," he offered, stepping forward and taking initiative before I could even decline. Then he lifted the blankets and helped get my legs under. "OK, yeah, um...." He finally met my gaze. "I'll see ya later, then."

Nodding, I hugged my arms around my legs. Even if nothing in my fantasy had happened, it would be hard to put my crush on Zell on a shelf. Especially with him standing there looking adorable. "Thanks again for the party. It was fun."

Zell's lips twitched upward with that. "Sure thing. No prob. Glad to do it."

Then I found myself saying, "You don't have to go," but, more importantly, I didn't want him to go. I know that it was horrible, because of Marshal, but Zell was… I don't know, stability? The norm? Something usual and customary?

"Aren't you tired?" he asked, smile gone and expression serious.

"A little, but that's OK." I rested my cheek on my knees. "You could tell me what's happened since the accident. Of course, I'd love to hear about the fight with Ultimecia again." I could still remember when he told it at the celebration party afterwards, everyone listening with bated breath as he acted it out. The laughter. The gasps. The fun....

Zell lowered himself into the seat beside my bed, leaning his arms onto the mattress as usual. "That's cool that you remember 'em all. I'd be in here telling them to you when you'd be all frowny," he did an interpretation of a pout that had me laughing, "and then I'd tell a story and you'd be all smiles. I kept telling Doc that you heard me, but she never believed it."

I laughed again. "I remember that story, and the one about catching Lunatic Pandora in Esthar, and climbing Odin's Tower, and the Tomb of the Forgotten King, or was it the Lost King?"

Zell smirked. "Hell if I know."

I giggled.

Then Zell motioned to me with another lift of his chin. "So, what was it like?"

"Like? What was what like?"

"Being in a coma! Is it like sleeping, so you get dreams and all that? Or do ya just lie there not know anything?"

"For me it was like sleeping," I confessed, squirming.

"So you had dreams and stuff?"

Forcing a smile, I nodded. "I dreamed I passed the Fire Cavern and beat Squall's score. I dreamed I was a Special Security Officer, too."

"Seriously? Sweet! What does a Special Security Officer do?"

How could I not tell him about the code-cracker that he and Seifer caught in Timber? I told him of my Field Exam, of our mission to Winhill to investigate the possibility of saboteurs on the building staff of the proposed Garden, and him being Head of Instruction while Quistis went undercover at Deling Garden to stop yet another Purist faction from annihilating the Garden organization. The only bit of my other history that I left out was our relationship – the only part of my history that should have been worth remembering.

When I started telling the story about Marshal and Fujin in Winhill, a sharp pain hit me right behind the eye. I cringed but continued, telling him about the Purist faction that tried to smuggle Garden missiles to a black market ring in Winhill. Of Fujin and Marshal's capture and how Marshal— My hand pressed hard against my eye to stop the throbbing. "Ow…"

"What happened? What's wrong?" he asked as he stood. "Do you need the doc?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "My head really hurts."

"Damn. Lie back and I'll get the doc." He steadied me as I did as directed, expression serious. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

Then he hurried away, not hearing my broken cry just before darkness enveloped everything.

* * *

One last rage-filled tug and the clang and rattle of falling chain filled the blackness. The man remained silent and still for the space of five breaths before supporting himself against the cold wall of stone and ordering himself to his feet. The blackness was too thick to do anything but hear his way through to where he knew the door to be, doing his best to stay within the path he had etched into his mind.

No sounds.

Feeling at the hinges of the door, he grinned with malicious intent. Then, with hurried yet silent movements, he popped the hinge stakes from the brackets and tucked them quickly into the pockets of his torn and tattered trench coat. He knew he had only a few moments before the next shift would make its rounds.

Gathering strength, he shifted the great door from its loosed position and carefully eased it open, slipping through and then quickly guiding it closed again. The lights of the dimmed hall hurt his eyes, but he ignored the pain as he crept toward the exit. There would be no others to free this time, for the most extreme of penalties had punished the risk of escape. The man still remembered each name and face of those that had paid and vowed vengeance—personal payment.

Arriving with almost super-human stealth at the next doorway, the man quieted his breathing to focus on hearing beyond what he could see outside the small window. No footsteps; no laughter; no droning of conversation.

He tried the door and found it unlocked, just as it had been all other failed attempts, and retrieved the two hinge stakes from his coat pockets. When he still heard no sounds, he slowly opened the door and slipped through, making his way to the left and the staircase he knew led to a main hall. Once beyond that, it would be only a matter of staying out of sight under complete cover until he was certain the way was clear and the night was dark.

The moon had been their enemy on more than one attempt—

A soldier in a dark uniform exited a room at the top of the stairs and the man didn't hesitate in his action: he grabbed him, covering his mouth with a large hand as he shoved the stake into the soldier's throat. The man held his hand over the soldier's mouth for several seconds, not risking even a low moan before dragging the body into the exited sleeping quarters. He retrieved the bloody stake from the soldier's throat and exited, closing the door behind him.

The man dropped to a combat crawl, moving only a few feet before waiting and listening, gauging the environment and adjusting his readiness accordingly. He had made it this far so many other times that the man no longer allowed hope to fester. It was simply a matter of proceeding to the next stage. If he did, then it was simply a met goal with the next dropped into play.

There was never hope of escape; only resistance to surrender.


	6. Reality Past

_Six ~ Reality's Past ~_

Sunlight filtered in through the tinted glass and onto the large wooden desk under the window. The glare reflected painfully into the emerald green eyes of the desk chair occupant just as she finished typing her notes into the computer.

She ran a tired hand through her blond waves as the warm breeze touched her skin and attempted to take several papers from her inbox. Her hand held the stray sheets of paper in place. _How long have I been looking?_ The pictures and DNA blood tests the Centra Agency had been collecting for the last several months proved her search could be over.

Seven months prior, a small scouting mission returned with photographs of a man tortured in the desert 25 miles from CA headquarters. When the mission had mounted a rescue, the people had disappeared as if mirages. Upon further investigation, they had found blood samples taken for testing.

Since that first encounter, the CA sent a scouting mission to the location each week. Most often, they turned up nothing. However, the last trip had turned up not only more blood evidence, but traces of magic usage. The scouts had tracked the group two miles into the lower mountains where the tracks suddenly disappeared. It was as close as the CA scouts had ever been.

Now they knew they needed the help of a larger organization, especially since they discovered the identity of the prisoner. One of their own had nearly identical DNA.

The woman glanced over the computer file one last time before she picked up the phone, dialing the number of a certain Timber TV station reporter.

***

Zell chucked a rock across the Training Center, not caring that he hit the slender tree. He only bent to retrieve another small rock from the area around the base of the boulder he sat on, pitching that at the same location. It hit. He stared at the target for a long moment before releasing a deep breath and lowering his focus to the other pebbles at his feet, resting his arms upon his legs.

"Zell?"

Zell looked up, standing from the rock in the same motion. "She wake up?"

Selphie's step forward hesitated and she sent Marshal a sidelong glance. He shrugged. "Sorry, Zelly."

"But it's been a week!"

"Dincht, the doctor says her brain activity has settled," Marshal reminded, scowling. "That's a damn site better than it could be."

Zell slumped back onto the rock, Selphie sitting beside him. "I shoulda forced her to go to sleep. Why didn't I make her go to sleep? We were right there! She was already tired! I was on my way out!" Zell slumped forward. "Dude. I swore to the doc... I screwed up. Big time."

"Zelly, it wasn't your fault." Selphie rested a hand on his back. "The doctor says this is normal with coma patients. It could've happened with anyone."

"But it didn't. It happened with me after I kept her up an extra hour." He shook his head. "I suck."

"Zell..."

He stood and stepped toward the inner-gate of the Training Center mumbling, "I suck, big time."

"Zelly," Selphie called after him, "it wasn't your fault!"

He closed the door behind him, immediately kicking at a large piece of debris. "Not my fault?" he grumbled, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his dark blue jeans. "How can she say it wasn't my fault? I did the party, didn't I? I told the doc I'd only let her stay for a little bit and wheel her back when she looked tired." He kicked at another rock. "Then I went and... damn it, Dincht. Watcha thinkin'?"

Glowering, Zell picked up a rock and chucked it hard. It clattered against the far metal wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Zell shrugged. "I don't know, Beita-Dawg. It's just… it's the library girl."

"Her name is Sally."

"Dude, I know what her name is—"

'_Zell Dincht, report to the Infirmary. Repeat: Zell Dincht, report to the– hold her! Don't let her get–'_

The intercom clacked off the same time Marshal and Zell sprinted for the metal door and out of the Training Center, nearly colliding into Selphie in the hallway.

"Zell! What's the matt–"

"Move!" Marshal roared. Then they raced down the corridor and into the main, heading for the infirmary as candidates and SeeD were yelled at, pushed, or moved of their own volition. Marshal slammed into the infirmary first, the swinging door nearly clocking Zell in the face before he could push through. When he did, he saw Sally struggling against Marshal and two SeeD medics using Duel moves he'd never seen before.

He skidded to a stop. "...the hell?"

"Let go of me!" Sally screamed. "I've got to go to him! He's hurt! He needs me!"

She burst free from the SeeDs' hold and wobbled forward, falling into Marshal's arms with a flail while still raging about someone being hurt.

Catching her flailing arms with a firm grip, Marshal ordered "Sally, calm down," while his hold was very nearly thrown off quite a few times. In fact, he struggled right along with the other SeeD to get her back to her bed.

Zell hadn't seen anything like it—ever.

"Let go of–" When her eyes actually focused on Marshal, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed "…go away…."

Marshal drew her close, a hand stroking her hair as he soothed, "It's OK, Sally. Shh."

"Get Doc," Zell ordered, trying to ignore a burst of irritation that exploded in his brain as he saw the library girl in Marshal's arms. She sobbed so hard that her entire body trembled, and seeing Marshal scoop her up made him feel mega-weird—as if he got kicked in the gut and the head, and then roasted with a Firaga when he wasn't looking.

"Why, M-Marshal? Why doesn't it leave me alone? I thought– he was– d-dead," she choked out.

"No one's dead, Sally." Marshal tried to pull away, but Sally continued to clutch his uniform. "Now calm down," he said, repeating the request quite a few times when she wouldn't release her grip.

That made Zell see red, and the Firaga wouldn't stop frying his brain. He grabbed the nearest SeeD. "Where's the Doc?"

Dr. Kadowaki rested a hand on his shoulder, drawing his gaze and showing a prepared syringe. "You'll need to quiet her."

Zell grimaced, shifting his focus to Marshal who still held her close.

"OK," he whispered. "Shh. Relax, Sally. I'm not going anywhere."

Zell crossed his arms, his brow furrowing as he watched them.

Sally slightly nodded, adjusting her arms around Marshal as she whispered something he couldn't understand. Marshal signaled he was ready, and Dr. Kadowaki moved in to give the shot. Sally didn't seem to notice and, very slowly, Zell saw her trembling cease and her form relax against Marshal with one last sleepy mumble.

He needed to punch something.

Marshal finally got her to lie back on the bed, holding tightly to her hand until even that relaxed. Then he turned on Dr. Kadowaki. Zell had never seen him so pissed. "What the hell was that? The whole reason Dincht started working with her was that she was 'fine'! Then she slips back into a coma and has an episode when she finally wakes up? Just what the hell is going on?"

The SeeD quickly left to their respective duties while Dr. Kadowaki drew Marshal from the bed. "Do you want to wake her, SO Beita? Outside with you! You, too, Zell."

"I want to know what the hell is going on!" he hissed.

Zell nodded. "Yeah! And what was that you gave her? The last thing she needs is to be so pumped full of meds that she's off on a drug-trip when she's supposed to be trying to get better!"

Dr. Kadowaki took a firm hold of each of them to pull them from the infirmary and down the corridor toward the main hall. "Gentlemen, comas are not widely understood. Nor is their reaction to the ment—"

Marshal shook her hand free. "That's bullshit, Doc."

Dr. Kadowaki sighed. "I haven't yet been able to determine a reason for the coma. She had a concussion, yes, but nothing to result in a coma. She had surgeries but, again, they shouldn't have warranted the coma. If anything, they should have caused partial or temporary paralysis. When we moderated her brain activity, it was extremely active. It was this constant activity which led Dr. Levinne and myself to believe that her coma was self-induced."

"_What_?" Zell and Marshal both stared at the doctor in disbelief.

"Matron and Dr. Levinne haven't yet been able to reason what could have caused the coma." She motioned to Zell. "For some reason, you're deeply involved."

"Wha...? I didn't do anything!"

Marshal stared at the floor with a somewhat blank expression.

Dr. Kadowaki smiled. "Not a negative involvement, Zell. Simply a powerful motivator. In fact, I hazard a guess that you're the reason she woke rather than being the reason she slept for nearly 28 months."

"Really?"

"It very well could be. And the reports prove that her brain activity while 'asleep' qualified as that of a conscious person. So, whatever she was... experiencing during that time, your visits, as well as the others', had quite a profound effect on her. Now whether or not that is causing her relapses and emotional... inconsistencies, I'm not certain. We can only continue to monitor her reactions to different stimuli and keep a close eye on her."

"Oh." Zell tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

Smiling again, Dr. Kadowaki rested a hand on each shoulder, drawing their focus. "What I gave her was only meant to calm, so that she drifted to sleep was a reaction to feeling safe, I imagine."

Zell's ears reddened. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right." She gave their shoulder one last grip and then motioned toward the infirmary. "Due to the scene she made a few moments ago, I'll let one of you stay until she wakes."

"Oh. Um..." Zell cleared his throat and looked first toward the infirmary and then down the hall toward the main corridor. "I'll be back a little later."

"What?" Marshal snapped. "Dincht, you can't just leave her!"

"She said that she's out for a while, Dawg, remember?"

Marshal scoffed and slammed into the infirmary, leaving Zell to stare after him wondering _..the hell's wrong with him?_ He glanced at the doc. "Yeah…erm…I'll check in later." Then he cleared his throat and turned down the hall to the main corridor while staring blankly at the floor.

"There you are."

He twitched and looked up to see Selphie approaching. "Oh. Erm.... Hi, Selph."

"Was she okay?"

"Um... Yeah. She kinda had... well, an episode or something, I guess." His face flushed red and he shifted his gaze. He didn't know why he felt bad that he got angry at Marshal for the stuff with Sally. Marshal and Sally had known each other for awhile.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "You're all red."

"Nothing."

"Whatever. You're never red. What happened?"

"Nothing." He sent Selphie a glance. "She was just... acting weird. Or something." He was acting weird. Marshal was acting weird.

"How did she act weird?"

Zell scrubbed at the back of his neck, and the Firaga attack returned when he thought about the way she and Marshal had— "Just weird. Don't sweat it."

He stepped past and headed for the dorms. _Dude, you don't care about Beita-Dawg and the library girl, do ya?_ He frowned, fisting his hands when he thought about how she had clung to Marshal as if it were the safest place in the world. _…the hell? I was the one that helped save the planet._ He slugged the wall on his way to his dorm-room. She was cute, and he liked hanging out with her.... Everyone said she had a thing for him, and why else would she have given him that mega-phoenix when all hell had broken loose? So why was she hanging all over Marshal? The Doc said _he_ was the reason she woke up, so what the hell?

Zell released a quick breath as he leaned against the wall just outside his dorm-room. He tucked his hands deep into his pockets.

"Zell?" Selphie came to stand beside him. "Zell, are you mad at me?"

He shook his head. "Just confused," he mumbled. "Sorry for the blow off."

"It's alright. I know how much you hate being confused. Wanna talk about it?"

"I don't know what to talk about," he confessed.

"Okay. Just tell me what happened that's got you confused."

Ears reddening, Zell sent Selphie a sidelong glance. "Marshal and Sally."

"What about them?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's just…. She was all crying and stuff because she'd just woke up from another dream or something. And..., erm, Marshal was all in her face and stuff."

"Marshal?" Selphie's expression showed confusion this time. "Marshal and Sally are friends. He wouldn't be mean to her, especially not when she's scared."

"No…I didn't mean that."

"Oh. Well, what _did_ you mean?"

"He was…well…" Zell kicked at the floor. "He was all hugging her and making her feel better."

Selphie stared at Zell, incredulous. "You're kidding, right? That has you confused?"

He squirmed. "OK, so…maybe I'm not _confused_."

"What is wrong with you, Zelly?"

"I don't know! I'm just….it just…. Marshal and Sally? Come on!"

"Wait, wait, wait." Selphie waved her hands at Zell, her eyes widening. "You're _jealous_?"

Frowning, Zell crossed his arms and looked away.

"Um, hello? I thought you and I were going out, Zelly. Why would you be jealous of Marshal and Sally."

"It's not like that," he grumbled. "It just was weird."

Selphie snorted. "Yeah, weird because you wanted it to be you. Thanks a lot, Zell. Good bye."

She turned on her heel and flounced away, Zell staring after her in shock. "…the hell did I do? I just…" He scowled and turned to slam into his dorm-room.

***

"_Zell? Are you in position?" I asked into the shoulder-mounted radio._

'_Yeah. Whenever you're ready.'_

_In our daily patrols around Winhill, we had discovered a somewhat secluded ranch-house that had experienced a lot of activity. When we placed satellite security on it to monitor that activity, we discovered some disturbing reports. Seifer had ordered us to move in and close it down. So, Zell had put together the strike-team while I had charge of the second, back-up team to offer support._

_Our surveillance showed that right now was the least amount of activity, and the expected 'feed delivery' wasn't due for another hour. This gave us plenty of time to set up a counter-strike and find the other end of the supplier._

_I brought up my hand-held and accessed the satellite's thermal scanner. Noting the positions of the guards, I directed, "Now," into the radio._

_Zell's team moved with split-second timing, breaking through the first and second perimeter guards with barely a pause, me keeping track of their progress using the same satellite. There was a hesitation at the third and final perimeter, and then a scratching on my radio. But the signal was too broken up._

"_Repeat that, Zell. You're breaking up." I sent Marshal a concerned glance._

"_He'll be fine, Sally."_

_The repeated message was just as garbled, so I adjusted the dials and requested another repeat, keeping my watchful eye on the hand-held's screen._

'_So–thi– –nk— g–ng on.' *garbled* 'Wh– do y– th–k?'_

"_Shoot," I mumbled, focusing fully on the dials to adjust them yet again._

_Marshal suddenly hissed. He pointed at the hand-held to the three teams converging on Zell's position._

_I adjusted the dials furiously, "Zell, six approaching from all directions. Take cov–"_

_Gunfire was heard and I flinched, staring slack-jawed at the hand-held as I watched it all in thermal. Three figures dropped and I collapsed to my knees. "No..." I shook my head. "No. No!" I scrambled to my feet, choking out "Zell!" as I stumbled and staggered forward against the hands and arms that kept me back. "Zell!"_

"_Sally! Sally, stop!"_

"_Marshal, let go!"_

"_I'm not going to let you die, Sally!" Marshal swept me off my feet and onto his shoulder, directing the other SeeD to follow him out of the danger zone._

_I shrieked and pounded his back. "Marshal! Marshal, let me go!"_

"Marshal!" I gasped and sat up, my hands gripping the sides of my sweat-soaked bed.

"Right here, Sally." I heard a movement, and then he lowered himself into the seat next to my bed. "That was some adventure you gave everyone. One of the SeeD has one helluva shiner."

"Is Zell—"

Marshal lowered his gaze as he leaned back in the chair, arms crossed. "Dincht is fine. Promised to stop by later."

I released a relieved sigh and laid back, covering my face with my hands. _He's safe... He's alive—_ Then I remembered Marshal in the elevator and flushed molten. I think I suffered from emotional whiplash. It wasn't fair that I was so worried about Zell, wanting him to fall in love with me when Marshal said we…. Now I couldn't even talk to Marshal about the dreams, so he could understand why I was the way I was, because… they were about Zell and me when Marshal had lost two years. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place and didn't know who to turn to for help. Much as I wanted it.

I could feel Marshal watching me in the silent moments that followed, and that watchfulness had me wishing he would just do something that would help me know what to do about it all. _Tell me a 'Remember when' so that I can actually remember!_ It was horrible not remembering something as special as a first boyfriend. Especially when it was someone like Marshal. He acted tough, sure, and I knew he _was_ tough, but with me he had always been the other way. Sweet? Gentle? Full of humor and smarts…the description sounded like Zell.

"Damn it…" I muttered.

"I agree."

That encouraged a laugh as I lowered my hands from my face, though I knew my eyes and nose were likely red from crying. I always seemed to be crying. My smile faded, though, at the somewhat blank expression on Marshal's face.

He lowered his gaze. "You don't remember, do you?"

"I remember a lot of things," I whispered. _Why can't I remember you, Marshal? Why?_ I wanted to remember him that way. Really. I did. He was so awesome. All those days and years I had pined for Zell, Marshal had been there to cheer me up. I sniffed.

"You don't remember the one thing that matters, Sally. The one thing I had when I would sit in here and watch you sleep and sleep and _sleep_." Marshal punched his leg with each repeat. "You don't—" He swore with such vehemence that I twitched. "I knew I fought an uphill battle, trying to get you to forget about Dincht, but to erase me?" He stood, his chair grunting against the floor and drawing my pained gaze. "Damn it, Sally, you erased me."

"No, Marshal," I protested, "I didn't. I promise. Maybe they're waiting?"

"I've waited _two years_ for you to come back to me!"

My heart beat thudded at the intensity of his tone. "I'm s-still working on piecing together what was real and what was just a dream. It's hard, and it's painful, and…I don't know…maybe I'm trying to find things one at a time? It…it's hard to find myself," I choked out.

Marshal clenched his jaw, the muscle twitching as I sniffed and hiccupped. Then he slumped into the chair and reached out for my hand to give it an almost painful grip. I returned the squeeze, remembering a similar time when we had talked about his sister. When he was like this, a little helpless and at risk, it made me see even more how deep of an individual he was. Very passionate in everything he did. A little like my… my… dream Zell….

"Marshal? Tell me how it went."

He shrugged a pathetic lift of his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Us. How did it start? When? Please tell me. I need my life back, don't I?"

"Sally…" Marshal lifted his gaze, and he looked utterly defeated. "I don't play like that. If you don't remember—"

"But I do remember! I remember rock bands and comedy shows. I remember chat study nights when I had such a hard time with criminal theory. I remember—"

Marshal stood and turned to go, waving his hand in a type of farewell that made me scramble out of bed after him. "Don't you dare," I cried as I stumbled forward. I clutched his arm to steady me. "Don't you dare walk out on me!" I had lost so much. I didn't want to lose his friendship, especially not if it had been more of what I had wanted.

"I can't go back, Sally." He finally met my pleading gaze. "I had you to myself for a damned awesome week before your accident. I had finally won out over Zell 'the Sorceress Slayer' Dincht!" He caressed my cheek, just as I remembered Zell doing in my dreams…. Then he lowered his head and touched my lips with his. My brain popped. "There is no way in hell I'm going back," he whispered.

Then he had left and I could only stand there, a hand raised to my lips as I stared at the swinging door.

* * *

The man opened his eyes to the painful glare of sunshine – _blessed damned sunshine_ – and smiled.


	7. Dramatic Pause

_Seven ~ Dramatic Pause ~_

Zack parked the car and gathered his briefcase and visitor badge, all the while muttering about needing an escort every time. He had been in plenty of top-secret situations without as much care to security. He appreciated the fact they had a job to do, and military matters always required more security than a sane person would allow, but he felt like a kid.

"Mr. Regal."

"SO Beita," Zack greeted after a cursory glance over his shoulder. "You look like hell."

"Thank you, sir."

"I hope they aren't waiting for me. I had to go back for additional information from a source that was late in getting back to me." That and Desi had quit that morning.

"They made due, sir." SO Beita offered forward another badge. "Updated badge permissions per Cmdr. Squall. This will allow you to log on to select computers within the Garden Network."

"Is that online, then?" Zack accepted the badge and returned his other. "And you really do look like hell. Take a day off."

SO Beita smirked. "Thank you, sir. I will tell Fujin you gave permission."

"You do that."

SO Beita offered to take Zack's case and then motioned forward. "After you, sir."

"Naturally."

As usual, SO Beita stopped at the 2nd floor and sent Zack up alone. This time, however, there were two others waiting in addition to Cmdr. Squall.

First-Lt. Fujin Rokhart – which always struck him as a dramatic and odd name – stood at ease in front of the commander's desk, not looking as he approached. To her left stood a tall, red-headed SeeD. He had never met her before but, unlike Fujin, she looked him straight in the eyes.

"Mr. Regal, this is Lieutenant Eryn Dwyre. She is head of instruction here and will be leading the mission, should it come to fruition." Squall offered.

"Lieutenant Dwyre."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Regal. I must admit I've been anxious to do so." She offered her hand and he accepted it. Eryn seemed friendly, but he could tell she silently sized him up. She too was cautious and probably completely untrusting. Not bad looking, though, with a porcelain complexion and striking green eyes.

"Lieutenant Rokhart."

Fujin gave a brisk nod and once more focused ahead, the beauty of her profile once more striking Zack as a stunning contrast to her somewhat hostile personality. He supposed that both were used as a protection, they were most of the time, and it had his journalist sense wondering at the history that made it necessary. _I'll have to ask Sally._ She had an ear for things like that and loved telling a story to the positive reflection of the people involved.

Zack smirked and focused on Cmdr. Squall. Nice kid. Focused on the business of running Garden to a fault, in most people's opinion. Only problem was that the kid reminded Zack of himself. A plus, of course.

Squall motioned to the third chair. "Have a seat." He sent a glance to Fujin as Zack and Eryn lowered themselves into their seats. "Fujin. Sit down."

Fujin did as requested. She likely didn't trust him either. He wasn't Garden, therefore he wasn't trustworthy. Of course, it didn't help matters that he had a history of exposé pieces. Exposing things so that people made a stink and got things changed was what he loved.

"How's Sally?" Squall inquired. "Dr. Kadowaki mentioned something about a refusal to take more tests the other day?"

"Yes, well, Sally seems to have acquired spunk in these two years she's been asleep, and it looks as if she's not afraid to use it. She'll be back on track once I have a chat with her." _Maybe this time she'll actually let me into the room?_ He'd attempted to visit her the day before and she had flat-out refused any visitors. Dr. Kadowaki hadn't been free to tell him the reason.

"Adjusting takes time." Eryn added, offering a sincere smile.

Squall absently nodded before motioning to Zack. "You mentioned information about the failed mission in Centra?"

"Yes. Someone called me yesterday offering me a lot of free information. When asked what would be expected in return, they said they would approach that at a later time. When asked if it was within my ability to provide, they said they wouldn't be expecting me to provide it."

Squall frowned and leaned back in his chair. "That means they're going to expect us to do something."

"NAME?"

Zack shook his head. "It was a woman. No name. Yet."

"What did she offer?"

"Oh, she didn't offer information to me that easily. It may be free, but I must work at finding it myself. She did offer me the starting point. Specifically, she wanted me to first look at different companies that support smaller businesses, groups, or individuals. She didn't specify whether they should be above-board supports, rumor-mill supports, or conspiracy-theory-buff reports. So I looked into all of them, which I'm sure she knew I would do in the first place."

"What did you find out?"

"Over the past 24 hours I found that there are quite a few questionable supporters of even more questionable people/groups. The one that lifted the highest eyebrow was one from the Trabia area."

"Trabia…." Squall's expression grew dark.

"If anyone had a reason to screw with Seifer it was Trabia," Eryn said. "If I recall, he blasted their Garden, killing who knows how many SeeD and candidates."

"WHY?"

"Because, Lt. Rokhart, the questionable group being supported didn't come into existence until a few months _after_ Seifer Almasy was re-enrolled. At least, they didn't become active, and funds didn't begin exchanging hands until then. There is alleged proof the group has been in existence since the Galbadian War with Esthar."

"Galbadia _and_ Trabia?" Eryn grabbed Zack's arm with a firm grip. "Do you realize what this implies, Mr. Regal? With the other Gardens delaying fully networking, that infers conspiracy. That could start a military episode."

"Exactly." Zack opened his briefcase to retrieve a sheaf of papers bound neatly by a black metal clip. "This is the information I gathered about Galbadia and Trabia, as well as the reporting proving the conspiracy false. As for the information about the failed Centra mission, the woman promised a summary in my inbox this evening—late."

Eryn accepted the papers. "Will you send the email to Fujin immediately after receiving it?"

"As immediately as I can, yes."

"Good enough."

"At least now I won't have to make a report."

Eryn smirked. "You'll have to make a report, Mr. Regal. Paperwork is the binding tie here."

"Damn. I hate your style of reports. They're so boring." He latched his briefcase. "At least we've ruled out the Administration of your other Gardens. Someone worked damn hard to plant the right information, which causes me to wonder if it is in fact an anti-Garden or anti-military group. I have a couple feelers out to the different hard-ass groups around, but I don't know how quick they'll be able to get back to me. All these questions have made the informants a little nervous, most likely because of your own investigations." Zack smirked. "I'll just up the pluses. That usually steadies nerves."

"Garden is offering a reward for any information leading to Seifer's recovery," Eryn stated. "Maybe that will help."

"Amount?"

"Depending on the information received, 10 to 25 thousand gil," Squall answered.

"That will definitely get you some extra attention." Zack stood. "I'll pass the word. For right now, I must pick up my daughter from day-care. They bite me when I'm late." He nodded to all. "Commander. Lieutenants. I'll be sure to have my report to you before this evening. Well, after Joy is fed at least."

Still smirking, Squall raised a hand. "Tomorrow?"

"Maybe. I might come in day after. I'm expecting information from one of my more reliable sources tomorrow. I'm waiting for his call. That and Joy doesn't have day-care. I get to play tea-party."

Fujin didn't react. Squall and Eryn chuckled.

Zack's smirk twitched. _Okay. So Fujin doesn't find me funny._ Neither did his ex wife. At least, not anymore. "I'll be at the infirmary for a few minutes before leaving, so intercom me if something comes up." Both Fujin and Eryn bristled at that. _Ah. Territorial and I'm not SeeD. Note to self_... "It might be better to buzz my cell phone. It's always on."

Then he nodded once more and turned toward the elevator. All SeeD met so far intrigued him, and that was hard to do considering his previous irritation with anything Garden. They were defined by a different code of honor than what he had expected, and a complete opposite to that of the Galbadian military. More than likely, it was due to the majority of enrollees being teenagers: troubled, abandoned, orphaned…. That commonality contributed to an impression of family. It also added to the previously mentioned code that bordered on self-sacrifice for the team.

There was only a handful of SeeD who didn't fit with the 'family' and seemed to work outside the code, but even they were dealt with, involved, accepted, and considered one of the team. One being SO Marshal Beita. _Definitely didn't think to meet him in a position of responsibility._

The kid – though Zack supposed he shouldn't call a 20-year-old a kid – had a questionable history. Enrolling at Balamb Garden at the age of 17, usually considered too late, Beita had a history of military schools in Dollet that had made him an exception. He had enrolled after his younger sister became the victim of a gang-rape, killed by Galbadian military.

Word on the street was that Beita had enrolled and then transferred to Galbadia Garden for revenge. Nothing had come of it, and now Beita was said to be one of the best security officers at Balamb, deadly with his pair of .45s called Marshal's 'Ladies', and trusted by First-Lt. Fujin Rokhart herself.

The story hiding behind the switch intrigued Zack.

Zack stepped aboard the elevator and pressed the first-floor call button. He frowned at the seam of the elevator doors. He had supposed the Seifer-team ambush to be a Garden-inside job, but the more he researched, even with the knowledge of Beita's history, the more he believed it an outside job. The hunt for the truth, while frustrating at times, was a thrill.

Which was the whole reason he'd become a journalist in the first place.

***

There sounded a rustle and the nineteen-year-old beside the infirmary bed looked up from grading papers. She had only turned to her side as she slept. One side of Zell's lips twitched as he returned his focus to his papers.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable at my desk?" Dr. Kadowaki asked, pausing on her way by.

"Nah. S'okay." Zell adjusted his ankle against his knee, shifting the papers slightly.

Dr. Kadowaki shrugged and continued on.

Zell glanced at Sally, watching her sleep for a long moment before once more grading the same paper he'd worked on for the last hour. Rubbing his scalp, he grumbled, "Focus, Dincht. Geez," and began tapping his red pen against the papers.

Everyone knew the library girl had a crush on him. Everyone knew she was too shy to do anything about it. That was one of the reasons he let her hang out with him at the party. He kinda... He kinda liked having her have the crush. No one else had one on him, unless they were just 'hero-groupies,' as Quis called them. It made him feel important.

Zell scrubbed at his scalp. It was weird how he liked hanging out with her. Working out with her had been fun, too, and stuff like that was usually a drag when doing it with someone else. They usually whined, or couldn't keep up with him. She hadn't once complained.

Sally rolled back to her side, but the action made a lock of hair fall against her nose, causing her to wrinkle it and squirm her face a little. Zell set the papers aside and stood, making his way to the side of her bed and brushing the hair away—the soft warmth of her face against his finger made Zell jump a bit as he pulled his hand back. _Dude._

Yeah, but 'dude' what? Bad 'dude'? Or good 'dude'?

A throat cleared behind him, causing his face to redden as he turned. He felt as if he'd been caught peeking into the girls' locker-room.

A tall man stood in the entry of the small, curtained-off room. Dressed in jeans and a gray _Timber Wolves_ t-shirt, he looked pissed.

"Zackary Regal," he introduced. "Sally's older brother." And he put emphasis on 'older.'

_Shit._ Zell forced a harmless smile as he stepped forward to grip the man's hand. The grasp threatened hellfire. _Dincht, you're in deep shit._ "Zell Dincht. How are ya?" _I'm __not__ trying to jump your sister._

"I'm well." But his expression said 'I'm going to hurt you.'

Clearing his throat, Zell released his hold of the older man's hand and gestured behind to Sally's sleeping form. "Just making sure she's okay. Last time she woke up, she freaked. So, Doc said I could hang here in case she woke up again. She was up a little while ago, barely, but she fell back to sleep." _Dincht, __shut up__!_ He forced back the jovial smile.

"Walk with me."

Zell didn't take it as a request. _Oh shit._ "Sure thing."

The two headed out of the infirmary and began what seemed a nonchalant jaunt around the Garden's main corridor. Zell couldn't stop smiling his best 'I'm not scared shitless' expression.

"Just what are you to my sister?"

"What d'ya mean?" was what Zell asked aloud while wondering how he was supposed to answer when he didn't even know what _she_ was to _him_.

"It's a fairly straightforward question. Explains itself, hence the reason I asked." Zack halted and faced him, his arms crossed. "I'm waiting."

Zell had to wrestle with the easy smile as he gave a shrug. "I'm kind of a coach for her, I guess. Working her muscle-groups to get her endurance, tone, and strength up." _Geez. That sounds..._ "You know, so she'll be good enough to walk around," he somewhat smoothly added, and he nearly grimaced.

"And," Zack pressed.

"And what?"

Zack leaned forward so suddenly that Zell took a step back, eyes wide. "Don't screw with me, spike-boy."

"I'm not!"

"Then what the hell are you to my sister?"

"I don't know!" Zell confessed before he realized it.

"You don't know?"

When Zack's short cut brown hair nearly bristled, Zell took another step back.

"You had better re-think that answer, spike-boy."

"Now, dude, chill. There's nothing going on. Swear."

"You _do_ realize that I'll beat your ass if you hurt her?"

"I'm _not_!" Zell insisted. "I really like her." He blinked. _I... I do...?_

"Glad to hear it," Zack said, "because that's my baby sister you 'really like', barely nineteen, and if I hear you mess with her head _at__all_, you won't be able to run far enough to get away from what I'll do to you."

Zell pulled his thoughts from the 'I _really_ like her' and nodded. "You've got my word on it."

"Your word, at the current moment, doesn't mean anything but letters in a certain order. So, just so long as we understand each other, spi–"

"It's Zell, or Dincht." Zell produced his hand, still holding Zack's gaze. "And we do."

Zack regarded Zell for an intense moment before accepting the hand and giving it a firm grip. "Good, because I _will_ hurt you."

With that, Zack casually walked toward the Garden exit as Zell stared after him. At least he still had all his extremities.

***

The phone rang.

Zack reached over and smacked the speaker button without looking away from the computer. "Regal. Talk to me."

"Good evening, Mr. Regal," greeted a low, feminine voice.

Zack snatched up the phone and pushed away from the computer. "You said you were going to email, but I'm not complaining."

"Did you meet with Balamb Garden?"

As before, she was all business. "I did. Did you access the information I uploaded?"

"Yes. You do very good work, Mr. Regal. I can see why you do what you do."

"So, I take it I'm on the right track with dismissing the intra-Garden conspiracy?"

"Yes, Mr. Regal. You gathered even more information than I had, so the certainty is definite—even for me."

"At least all the sleepless nights were worth it."

The woman actually chuckled.

"Any possibility I can have a name to report to Cmdr. Squall Leonhart. They're a little antsy to get started and want to know who to contact."

"I think I will leave things the way they are for the moment, Mr. Regal, if you don't mind."

"A reporter never minds having a private source. Trust me."

"I didn't believe it would be a problem," she said, her tone amused. "Is it safe to assume that you are ready to receive some additional information about the mission?"

"Damn straight."

"Could you humor me with the information you were provided by Garden?"

"Naturally. Did you want it verbatim, or colored with my own suppositions?"

"Verbatim first, if you please."

"Good girl. Let's see…." Zack hit the speaker button again and replaced the receiver. "If you don't mind, I've put you on speaker. I'm at home, alone, so there's no risk of info leaking out anywhere. I just need quicker access to my notes. I hunt and peck."

"Are you always this way when chasing the story of your life, Mr. Regal?"

"Naturally."

She chuckled again.

"Alright. Verbatim: 'A terrorist faction attempted to take certain prominent scientific minds captive. We had pinpointed their location, with Almasy's help, and planned a strike at their core. Almasy wanted to head the mission and [Cmdr. Squall] approved. Lt. Cmdr. Quistis Trepe and Lt. Cmdr. Xu accompanied him as SeeD observation staff. There was an ambush, and Lt. Cmdrs. Quistis and Xu were able to escape. The faction took Almasy and his team captive. Investigations haven't revealed any sign of the faction or where they might have gone.' "

"Did they allow a recorder on base?"

Zack smirked. "No, I'm just good like that."

"And your own suppositions would be what?"

"Besides what you read online?"

"Once again, humor me. I'm blonde."

"Ah ha! I had pictured you brunette. Damn."

She chuckled. "Mr. Regal. Let us stay on task, if you please."

"Right. Supposition…." Zack received an email at just that moment. His brain stalled.

"Mr. Regal?"

"I just received some information. Need to process."

"I will call you back in 30 minutes, Mr. Regal."

"Call me back in the morning." He clicked off the speaker and brought up the email, shifting it to his second monitor to make room for the research windows he would need.

* * *

They had come again.

And again he had slipped through their fingers.

The constant cat-and-mouse game was a thrill for the man, a joke to himself of being a "thrill junkie" looking for the next hit. It reminded him that he was alive and free, gaining power and motivation with each day. Plotting vengeance. Plotting annihilation, really. No one took Seifer Almasy prisoner and lived to tell the tale.

These ass holes wouldn't be the first.

If he had anything to say about it, they would be the last.


	8. Time Crunch

_Eight ~ Time Crunch ~_

Zack paced his office at 2:00 in the morning, headset on, squeezing a bright-blue anti-stress ball his mom had given him the previous week. "I've been on hold for 30 minutes, soldier. If you don't transfer me to one of the four people I listed, I swear I will—I don't care if I spend a _month_ in the brig! I have highly classified and important information they will want to know on the double! … Yes, I realize I've told you this same 'story' three times already. Could that possibly mean it's true? … For the love of— Transfer me to SO Beita. Now! … Oh, he's actually on shift? Thank Hyne!"

He waited for them to transfer the call, certain that he radiated enough thermal energy to power his house for at least a month.

"SO Beita."

"Thank all that's holy!" Zack swore.

"That's my line, sir."

"Beita, you will not believe the information that just fell across my desk. I need to arrange a meeting with Lt. Rokhart, Cmdr. Leonhart, and Lt. Dwyre immediately. Can someone pick me up in an aerial? Trains aren't running."

"I'll notify the commander as I leave to retrieve you. We could arrange a video conference via aerial if the material is time sensitive."

"Done and done. I will be at Timber Station."

"Ten minutes, sir."

The line terminated. Zack grabbed the discs and printouts and shoved them into his briefcase as another call came in, this one on his cell. "Regal. Talk to me."

"Mr. Regal—"

The woman's voice sent an eyebrow soaring. "Sorry, ma'am. Time crunch. Besides, who thinks 2 am is the appropriate time for a conference about classified information?"

"Serra."

"Pardon?"

"My name. Serra. I detest 'ma'am'."

"Noted… Serra." Zack sealed the case and hurried out the door. "What did you need? Quickly."

"You seem to be in a rush, so I will summarize. The failed attempts to kidnap prominent scientists in Centra were a ruse. Candidate Almasy's informant is a high-ranking officer within the terrorist faction behind the ruse. As you suspect, the faction utilized Candidate Almasy in order to raise suspicion of the Gardens and keep the network from succeeding."

"You know where they are, don't you?"

"No, Mr. Regal, I do not. However, I do know that Seifer Almasy is alive. More specifically, I know where we can find the man responsible for leading him into the ambush."

"My apologies, Serra, I just received that information myself. Hence my rude disconnect earlier."

"To be honest, it was I who sent the email."

Zack halted mid-step, then resumed. "Interesting. Concerned with other parties filtering through my emails?"

"Yes. My employers require a certain amount of… discretion when it comes to people knowing who we are. It allows us to do a better job."

Nodding, Zack searched the skies for the promised aerial. "Thank you for the info. I'm on my way to Garden right now to—"

"Yes. I know. I happen to be behind you."

Zack turned, his gaze falling on an approaching blonde dressed in a burgundy and gold uniform. Her startling green eyes shone with a calm intensity that intrigued him. There was something familiar about her face also. He closed his mobile phone. She did the same. "Your flair for the dramatic gives me pause." They shook hands. "You are definitely a blonde."

She smirked. "Thank you for alleviating any doubt."

"My pleasure—" He looked up at the sound of the approaching aerial. "Damn. The kid is fast with that thing." He motioned toward it. "Care to join me?"

"That was my intention."

"Naturally."

***

2:11AM Balamb time. The halls of Balamb Garden were quiet, the night security officers making the only sound as they patrolled the open campus. Suddenly the sound of thick boots connecting with the tiled floor echoed around the lift area. Yawning, Commander Squall adjusted his jacket as he waited for the lift to arrive.

In a dorm room near the commander's, Lieutenant Eryn Dwyre was fast asleep. She had collapsed into her unmade bed still wearing her uniform about an hour ago, falling asleep as soon as her head connected with her pillow. Her dorm room was the polar opposite of her squeaky clean office. Books and half-filled notebooks cluttered her desk as well as the floor surrounding the head of her bed, clothes strewn about the floor. The windowsill was home to an overflowing ashtray... Eryn's worst habit. She had numerous framed pictures scattered around the room, some even hung on the walls. Her favorite picture was one of her with Jaxon Crest at Trabia. The two of them smiled at the sleeping SeeD from her nightstand. Her alarm clock and cell phone lie beside the metal-framed photo.

She had worked late again. It seemed every night had become a late night since the new developments in Seifer's case. While she liked the work, she had always been a fan of sleep.

Suddenly her cell phone rang, its tone shrill and annoying. She was instantly awake, sitting straight up in bed to blindly reach for her lamp in the pitch black room. She squinted at the sudden brightness and grabbed the phone.

"Dwyre," She answered groggily.

"ERYN."

She flinched at the sound of her own name, "Fujin."

"MEETING. SECURITY. FIFTEEN MINUTES."

She nodded her understanding before hanging up the phone. While she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, she only succeeded in smearing the little makeup she still had on from earlier. Eryn groaned, her hand now smeared black from her mascara. She stumbled into her bathroom, tripping over and swearing at the objects on the floor in her path.

Ten minutes later she was on her way to security. For once she was thankful that she had fallen asleep in her uniform. Sure it may have been a bit wrinkled, but it got her to the meeting on time. Eryn glanced around as she waited for the lift to arrive. She always found it a tad disconcerting when Garden was quiet like it was now. She turned her attention to footsteps behind her and smirked when she saw Fujin with two cups of coffee in her hands.

"How'd you know?" Eryn asked as she accepted the caffeinated offering.

"HUNCH," Fujin replied, taking a sip from her own cup.

The two rode the lift down to Garden's lower levels in silence, both still trying to wake as they sipped their coffee. They started down the hall and came to the conference room they had used before, each taking their respective seats on either side of Squall. Eryn smiled into her cup at the site of him. His normally spiked hair was flat and hanging in his eyes. He tried to push his hair to the side, but it was no use. He shook his head in defeat and sat back in his chair.

"Marshal is on his way back with Zack Regal and his mystery source," he said, his voice deeper and grainier than usual. He had probably been asleep when he got the call as well.

"Hmm. She must not sleep much." Eryn said, taking another sip of coffee.

The three turned their attention to the door as Zack and his source entered— All eyes focused on the blonde stranger that stood before them, though she wasn't a stranger. They had seen her before. She looked almost identical to Seifer Almasy.

***

A movement in the room tickled the edges of my consciousness, pulling me out of the grog and fog where I was afraid to dream. When I opened my eyes, I didn't see Marshal or Zell. I saw Zack. Hiding my disappointment, I sleepily smiled.

"Sleeping Beauty awakens." He sat on the bed. "I've heard of beauty rest, but this is ridiculous. You already have half the male population eating out of your hands. What are you doing still in bed?"

_Half the male population? What planet does he live on?_ I smiled wider and rubbed my eyes as I sat up. "Hello to you, too. What brings the infamous Zack Regal to my bedside?"

"Had a meeting with the commander and his followers earlier this morning, after which I decided to come and see how you fared. I've heard nasty rumors that you aren't being a very cooperative patient."

I grabbed Bonny from my bedside table and hugged her close, snuggling my face into her fuzzy softness. "Do you know how many times I've been a 'patient', Zee? It's no fun, now or then, and I just want it to stop."

Zack sent Bonny a suspicious glance. "Is that from spike-boy?"

"No, it—" I frowned in confusion. "Who's spike-boy?"

"Dincht. You know. Tattoo. Horrid fashion taste. Spike up to here."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Zee, he's not that bad."

"He's a walking hormonal urge. They're all bad, especially that one. I read your fantasy reality, munch. Remember?"

"Psh," I scoffed. "I don't care if you _are_ my older brother. I'm a big girl and can take care of myself."

"You're nineteen, sister-mine. You're not a 'big girl' until you're twenty."

I shifted my glare to Bonny's placid expression. I hadn't minded being nineteen the first time around, but the second was getting a little old.

"Don't pout, munch. It's not attractive."

"It's your fault," I mumbled.

"I know, and a big part of me is sorry that I threw you into the gloomies. But, like I said, I've read your fantasy reality and would like you to remember that you aren't living that daily adventure anymore. It sounded like a great life. Hard, but good. But where does it belong? You only have so much 'you' to go around. Now you have to choose where to live it. Here. Or there. So, what are you going to do with it?"

I morosely shook my head with a small shrug thrown in for good measure, all the while picking at my ringless finger.

Zack covered the action with his own hand. "Stay here a while, munch. You've got a lot to offer a lot of different people. You never know. You might be the hero you dreamed you were. You'll never know unless you try it out."

My expression soured. What I would have given to be at least twenty-one.

Zack stood and kissed my forehead. "I need to get along, munch. Try to be a good girl for the doctors. Capiche?"

Then he left, leaving me broiling in the juices of my helplessness. I wanted to punch something now, or throw something…. I glared into Bonny's peaceful expression—and threw her hard across the room. She ricocheted off the wall with a clatter of eyes and nose to bounce from desk to floor. No, it didn't make me feel better, and now I had nothing to squeeze.

Rubbing at my eyes and face with harsh motions, I let out a choked sigh. No one would let me forget things were different now, and I didn't want to admit it was a good idea. "Bleh, bleh, bleh," I grumbled. With a shake of my head, I lowered my hands from my face—and focused on Marshal standing at the foot of my bed holding Bonny.

My heart thumped so hard I thought it would break out of my chest. "Hi, M-Marshal."

"You, uh, you dropped this." He set Bonny next to my leg and then fisted his hands at his side, not looking up from the rabbit.

"Um… y-yeah. Zee… he, uh, made me—I needed something to throw and…" I tucked my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, staring at Bonny as she tipped over onto her side. She looked back at me with her same peacefully blank expression.

"I—" He scrubbed at the back of his neck. "Squall said I should give you a tour of the downstairs."

I didn't know what to say at that. A part of me was so excited… and then there was another part terrified of seeing more differences that would never be the same. Janine would have scolded me for being such a fraidy cat. She would have told me to take this new life by the horns. _'You've got another chance, Sal, so take it and run, damn it! How many of us get a second chance at doing everything all over again? I can tell you: none.'_

"I would like that."

Marshal nodded, his expression distracted as he sought out a wheelchair and brought it over to the left side of the bed.

"Shouldn't I get dressed?"

"Huh? Oh. Psh." He sent me a lop-sided smile. "Candidate Regal, you're out of uniform. What the hell?"

Smiling, I saluted. "Sorry, SO Beita. My uniform was stolen."

"Good thing I'm taking you to security. You can file a report." He chucked me my workout leggings and a Balamb-blue t-shirt.

"It's an old case, sir. Two years. Leads have run cold, I'm sure."

He drew the curtain. "Garden property is Garden property. Didn't you know there's a shortage?"

"I'm not short."

Marshal laughed, and the sound of it made me feel so much better. He was usually so laid-back that it bothered me to have him on the morose side. Especially when I knew I had done it to him.

I slipped off the bed and sat in the wheelchair. "Ready."

He pulled back the curtain, still smiling, and crouched in front of me, resting a hand on each arm of the chair. I held his silver-blue gaze, my cheeks flushing molten. He didn't say anything. He just smiled up at me for the longest time. Then he reached up and caressed my cheek with the back of a finger and stood, going around behind me to push the wheelchair out from the infirmary toward the main corridor.

"You're different from before the accident," he mused in a quiet voice. "Trying to put my finger on it, but can't get it cornered."

My palms were a little clammy, so I rubbed them on the thighs of my leggings.

"Would you mind if I try to figure it out over dinner some time?"

I blinked and my heart skipped a beat. Did I mind? Zell didn't see me as anything but 'the library girl' still. Marshal had been my friend since enrollment; we may have been more than friends before my accident…. I liked Marshal, a lot, and liked how we got along. Even though it was creepy how he was like my dream Zell.

Did I mind him trying to figure me out? Did I mind going out?

Marshal wheeled me into the lift and pressed the call button after inserting his security key. The lift zoomed downward. He didn't look at me. He didn't say anything more. He simply stepped back behind my chair. I knew that if the lift opened and I hadn't answered, he would never ask again. Don't ask me how I knew.

The lift opened and his grip on the handlebars momentarily tightened before he pushed the chair forward.

"I wouldn't mind," I whispered.

The chair jerked a little but continued forward into the construction mess that I hoped would someday be the Network Security offices I remembered so well.

I experienced a pang of wistfulness at the bustle and activity, even though there were only a handful of cubicles and desks set up. There were no separated offices for Fujin or Seifer, either, reminding me that Zell had said… "Marshal, where's Seifer?"

"Classified."

It didn't make any sense. Had he gone rogue? If there was a current operation in process to track him down, that also could lead to a security black-out, but…. I couldn't see that happening. Especially since Fujin was here, in security. She wouldn't be here if Seifer had gone rogue. She would be with him. Everyone knew that.

"I miss my security clearance," I mumbled.

"You haven't ever had clearance, Candidate Regal."

"Oh yes I did." I faced him as he continued to push the chair forward through the construction. "I was Special Security Officer, Rank 10, here at Balamb. At Winhill, I was Assistant Security Station Administrator under Zell. In fact, I think I out-ranked you."

The chair stopped and Marshal held my gaze, his expression showing some expression I didn't recognize. It seemed a combination of pride and disbelief. "You were in security? When?"

That made my gaze fall and my eyes burn as I faced forward. "Oh… never mind."

"Sally, seriously. I want to know." He came to crouch down in front of me. "You were… You were security… in your coma?"

Again, I would have liked to chuck something across the room. Instead, I made due with gripping the arms of the chair and trying not to glare at him. I don't think I succeeded. "Yes, and I kicked ass. Seifer even said so. I was the best hacker-cracker in the Network. In fact, because of me we were able to find a hole in our Network Security firewall and track them to the source. That led us to find a whole bunch of other things in Deling Garden, making Zone and Quistis having to go under-cover. Zack helped with that, I think. It was a new Garden, and that was where we put all the delinquents."

Marshal's eyes widened and he slipped off his feet onto his butt, silent.

My frown deepened and I crossed my arms. "For my Field Exam I had to go in and disarm a warhead with just my hand-held. Fanatics had hold of a Garden weapon somehow. That was so many years ago, though, that I can't remember the specs of it. Then, even though I was going to be Library Admin, Seifer made them transfer me to security. He put me outside his office. Of course, he was always yelling at me, and I think I got his coffee more often than I should have for a Security Officer rank, but I didn't care. I made a difference and did excellent at my job. Fujin even respected me."

I knew that I talked too fast to be as calm as I had wanted to be, and I could feel a tear escape, but I didn't care. I felt as if I spiraled out of control because I didn't have any place to fit here. I wanted Marshal to realize just how much I lost when I woke up. I wanted him to know where I wanted to be, that I didn't care how hard it would be—I wanted it so much it hurt.

"I was so good that Seifer threatened all sorts of things when he found out Zell and I were accepted as Admin for the Winhill Security Station. It didn't matter that I would train Saerin, my replacement, to be just as good or better. It didn't matter that I would continue some of my responsibilities remotely. He wanted _me_ because he knew exactly what to expect and when. He knew I would get the job done. He knew—" I bit down hard on my lower lip to keep from crying. Crying was getting old.

I looked down, shaking my head as I grabbed the wheel rims of the chair and propelled myself around and back toward the lift. I nearly ran over someone, but I didn't care.

"Sally!"

I heard Marshal scramble to his feet, mutter something to the person that was nearly the first victim of a wheelchair hit-and-run, and then his quick steps after me. Unfortunately, he grabbed the handlebars of the chair just as I was wheeling into the lift.

"Let me go…." I could have taken him, in my dream.

"If you want to go back to that room," he let go, "I'll let you. If you want to have a tour of the security office, I can take you around. It's your choice."

"That's not fair," I whimpered. "I don't want to go back to that stupid little room." But I didn't want to be down there…. I sighed. I _did_ want to be there. I wanted to see if it was the same. More than that, I wanted to see if it was the place to be when I completed my Field Exam. I wanted that job back, and I knew this would be my one chance to see if it was worth the effort.

Marshal leaned down, whispering, "Are you OK?" in my ear in a quiet voice that sent tingles down my spine.

"Yes," I mumbled, "I just need to hit something."

He chuckled. "I can understand that. Believe me. Maybe I will take you to the firing range down here and let you fire off a few rounds. The Ladies wouldn't mind, I'm sure."

I smiled a pathetic bit of smile at him. "Thanks, Marshal. But aren't they a little big for me?"

"You can hold one in both hands. It will help."

"I'd rather hit you."

Marshal laughed. "I get that a lot."

This time my smile was more genuine.

"Now buck up, Candidate Regal. I'm showing you classified material here. Be proud."

"Only if you tell me where Seifer is."

"Holy Hyne, Sally. You're like a dog with a bone."

I nodded, not looking away from his silver eyes. It seemed that they laughed at me, and I wasn't certain how to take that. "If I make puppy dog eyes will you tell me?"

"If you make puppy dog eyes I will send you to the pound."

My mouth dropped open and then I frowned and slugged his arm. "You meanie."

"Heyouch! That hurt!"

While I hadn't meant to hit him _that_ hard, it made me feel good that it hurt. It meant that I wasn't a wuss like I had been before. Of course, I had been doing my strengthening exercises like a good girl.

Marshal leaned forward, scowling. "Don't you usually say 'sorry' when someone says 'ouch'."

I pressed my lips together to restrain a laugh as I held his gaze.

"Since when did you get attitude?"

I stuck out my tongue, feeling very 'Janine'.

"You had better watch out, Candidate Regal. I'm liable to take your punishment a bit too personal."

I flushed molten but didn't look away.

Marshal leaned closer, his breath fanning my face and making me a little dizzy. "I think I'm beginning to put my finger on what is different about you, Candidate. You're more of a fire-cracker, and that's _very_ nice to look at."

That sounded so ridiculous that I laughed and pushed him back, wondering why it felt so right to play around with Marshal when it had been Zell in my dreams. Something was backwards, and I wasn't certain yet how to figure out what it was. I just liked being here right now, comfortable in my own skin.

***

Marshal reloaded the magazine of Lady number one, Janine, when he saw Zell in the outer hallway. He frowned, his hold tightening on the magazine as he snapped the last bullet into place. He deliberately set the magazine and the gun down, opposite one another, before taking up Lady number two, Jennifer, and repeating the routine.

Zell opened the door of the firing room. "Hey, Beita-Dawg. You got a sec?"

"Maybe." He set Jennifer aside, unloaded, and turned, arms tightly crossed. "What?"

"You sound like Fujin." Zell grimaced and then shrugged it off. "So, you're friends with the library girl, right?"

Marshal's spiked black hair bristled. "Sally."

"I know what her name is. You're her friend, right? So, can you help me out? I like her, but her brother is totally cramping my style. I can't go near her without looking over my shoulder! …the hell? So how do I ask her out? Where should I take her?"

"Don't ask me, Dincht." He turned and took up the magazines, slipping them into their pouch on his belt before tucking the Ladies, unloaded still, into his black leather shoulder holster.

"Wha? How come?"

"I'm not going to help you. That's 'how come.'" He stepped out of the firing room, fisting his hands when Zell followed.

"Just give me a little something? Help a buddy out, will ya?"

Marshal sent the other SOs in the office a sidelong glance before doing an about-face. "I'm not going to help you, Dincht," he hissed. His silver eyes sparked like lightning. "Don't you get anything outside your two-foot bubble?"

"…the hell, Dawg? What's got you—"

"You."

"Wha?"

"If you noticed anything outside your two-foot world, you would have asked her out three years ago. You didn't, so why the hell should I help you?"

Zell's face screwed up in confusion. "So I didn't ask her then. I want to ask her now. Is that all right with you?"

"NO." Marshal grabbed Zell's shirt. "If you ask her out, I'll hurt you."

Zell stared up at Marshal with wide eyes. "…the hell?"

"BEITA."

Marshal's hold on Zell's uniform shirt tightened for the briefest instant before he pushed him away and stood at attention.

Fujin glared at both of them before focusing on Marshal. "ESCORT. NOW."

After one last threatening glance toward Zell, Marshal about-faced and strode toward the lift.

Fujin focused on Zell. "GO."

"Hey, I have as much right—"

"NOW."

"Tch." Zell made a rude gesture and then strode toward the lift a few moments later to await its return.

***

Eryn Dwyre and Marshal Beita sat together in the busy cafeteria. There was a break between classes and the place was buzzing with students and teachers each trying to grab a quick snack before their studies resumed. Marshal stared into his black cup of coffee. Eryn watched him as she dropped another cube of sugar into her own bitter cup. Zell Dincht came up and smacked Marshal hard between his shoulders before she could make comment.

Marshal lurched before jerking around. "The hell, Dincht?"

"Just making sure you're still breathing, Dawg."

Eryn said nothing as she watched the exchange. The tension between the two men was palpable, easily cut with a gunblade. In fact, Eryn repositioned herself in her chair in preparation to jump between them should a fight break out. Luckily, Zell smiled, though it was far from genuine. He actually sneered at him!

"See ya around," he said, turning to walk away.

Marshal muttered something under his breath before taking a large, forceful gulp of his coffee.

Eryn stared at him in disbelief, "What in Hyne's name was that all about? I thought you and Zell were friends."

Marshal cringed, "Friends? Zell Dincht is dead to me."

"Really? He seemed pretty alive to me just now..."

Marshal met her gaze for a moment before glaring into his cup again.

"Look, I've known you a long time. You're a private guy and I respect that. But whatever you did to him..."

Marshal glared at her. "What I did? You have no idea what's going on between us."

Eryn shrugged. "You're absolutely right, and what I was going to say was whatever you did to him, or whatever he did to you, are you sure it's worth throwing away your friendship entirely?"

"He can go to hell."

"Exactly the response I was looking for." Eryn rolled her eyes, "Look, I didn't want to pull the 'rank card' but you're sort of leaving me no choice. I'm running the retrieval operation and I won't let anyone jeopardize it. We've only got one chance at this, and if I have to cut one of you, I will, and I guarantee you it won't be Zell. He out-ranks you and there isn't a damn thing I can do about that."

Marshal shifted but made no response. Eryn nodded once and stood from the table. "Just think about what I said, alright? You lose a friend; you lose a great opportunity for advancement." She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before heading toward the exit.

* * *

She sat alone brushing her hair, not truly seeing her reflection.

Stroke – stroke – stroke

She set the brush aside and coiled her locks of blonde, pinning them against her head with a metal barrette—Her eyes focused on the face staring back at her as she lowered her hands. Turning her head, she scrutinized the profile with a sharp green gaze. She wondered, again, if they were as similar as she imagined. She attempted, again, to envision the reaction and the response.

To prepare for the path chosen.


	9. Losing the Memorable

_Nine ~ Losing the Memorable ~_

Zell glared at the door of the infirmary for at least half a class period. He couldn't make himself go through the doors, afraid that he would make the library girl get that weird look again. It twisted him up inside when he saw that look. He punched his palm and strode for the Training Center. But even after another half a class period, he still felt off kilter, and that pissed him off.

He fisted his hands as he lumbered around the main corridor, grumbling under his breath as he tried to figure what to do.

"A word, spike-boy."

Zell cringed before turning to watch the elder Regal sibling approach. Zack looked about to spit fire. _Oh man..._ He must have stopped by the infirmary. "Don't let him get to you, Dincht. You're a SeeD. Suck it up," he muttered. Zell forced a smile. "Hey, Zack. How're things?"

Zack didn't speak until he was nearly toe-to-toe with the scrapper. "Mind explaining my baby sister's condition to me, spike-boy?"

"I don't know, Zack. She had a minor flip when I pulled out a Triad deck."

"Can I see them?"

"They're in my space."

Zack gestured toward the dorms and Zell reluctantly led the way. In his room, Zell retrieved the deck from his desk and handed them over. Zack sifted through while sending Zell occasional glances.

He handed the deck back. "What did you try?"

"Try? What are you talking about?"

"She starts crying and you don't try anything?" Zack scoffed.

Annoyance started redlining to temper. "Of course I tried something. I couldn't just let her sit there crying. When I tried, she told me to leave. So I left. What'd you want me to do? Force myself on her!"

"Talking about it would have been recommended."

"Oh, yeah. That'd been great. She looks like she's gonna hurl and you want me to _talk_ about it?" Zell scoffed. "She asked me to go, so I went. Just back off from Sally about me, okay? I'm not gonna jump her or whatever hell else you think I'm going to do. I like her. Back off a step or two and quit thinking I'm plotting to jack the girl. If you should be worrying about anyone it's Marshal, ass who thinks he's Hyne's gift. He's the one that got her that damn bunny, not me. And that pisses me off because she loves it to pieces. And just so you know, _I'm getting her a bigger one_!"

"Dincht. Chill."

"Like hell. I'm sick and tired of being pushed around and I'm not going to take it anymore."

"I thought I'd be able to push for a few more weeks."

Zell leaned back in his typical fashion, face twisted in confusion. "Wha?"

"You think I want some wuss-ass pansy dating my sister who can't even stand up to _me_?" Zack pressed a finger hard into Zell's chest. "When you date my sister, her protection is your responsibility. If you can't take me, you can't take on that responsibility."

The scrapper shoved Zack's hand away. "So you got a choco-feather up your ass to push my buttons?" He fisted his hands to keep from clocking the guy. "We're not even dating!"

"That makes me a jackass, a prick, and a lot of other things, sure," Zack admitted, "but I don't trust you, Dincht. Mostly because I don't like the idea of anyone going after my somewhat naive sister. She's sweetness itself, always thinks the best of everyone, and has a tendency of getting herself hurt. That and she had a past history with you."

"Pas–"

"Let me finish. You seem to be a good guy. I've asked around, done some research, and most of what I hear is good. You've a tendency of being a prankster and a social klutz, but you're only 19. You've got some years to grow yet."

Zell frowned.

"You don't have an uncontrollable temper, which is good, because that's what I've been trying to set off for the past few weeks. I expected you to clock me a couple times, but you didn't. Next time, though, call me on the shit I pull. You don't and I'll walk all over you until you do." He extended a hand. "Can I see that deck again?"

"Wha? Oh. Sure." Zell handed it over. "Seriously. That's all that happened. She saw this and freaked."

"Do you remember what card was up?"

"I had them face down because I was going to let her pick some of my cards to add to hers. I've got some really good ones and she's got crap. Marshal found her deck in her desk on the second floor."

Zack shook his head and handed the deck back. "I don't like it that these fantasies of hers are causing such havoc. Dr. Levinne and Matron have already discussed the possibility of terminating her enrollment here because of it."

"They can't do that!"

"I agree with you. The reaction would likely make things worse for Sally rather than better, but they've mentioned it more than once as a possibility."

Zell scrubbed at the back of his neck. "Dude..."

"There's always room for her at the shop, or in the research department at the TV station, but losing the opportunities here... I don't know."

"What should we do?"

"I don't believe there's anything to _be_ done. Dr. Levinne and Dr. Kadowaki will make recommendations. It doesn't matter if Sally, you, or I don't agree with them. Of course, with her reaction to those cards... Now I'm not so sure I disagree as much as I did before."

"You can't be serious! We can't let them flush her career with Garden just because the docs are too scared to put her to the test!"

Zack bristled as he glared down at Zell. "And if that test sends her back into a catatonic state? What then, Dincht? Two more years asleep, or maybe more? You really want to do that to her? I don't."

"Hell no I don't want to, but I don't want her flushed, either! She wants to be SeeD. Don't take that away from her."

"If being SeeD means she might slip away from her family and friends again, I'm not letting her do that. If the doctors say 'terminate enrollment', I won't say 'no' to my dad. I would rather have Sally up and around hating me than asleep in that damn room for another lifetime."

"She's tougher than you think," Zell said. "You guys should be pushing her forward not back." With that, he stalked out of his room, leaving the door gaping open.

Zack stared after him before retrieving a mini-disc labeled 'A Different Daydream' from the back pocket of his jeans. Each day he met with her in the infirmary he was beginning to see how it had changed her. For the better. _Maybe Dincht's right?_ But the risk of losing her again, and this time permanently, kept kicking at him. She was his baby sister.

He always protected her, even while she was studying here – though she never knew.

Shrugging, he tucked the disc back into his pocket and headed out of the dorms and to the main portion of Garden. There was a small meeting and, unfortunately, he didn't have time to sort out Sally's future.

SO Beita beckoned from the lift. "You're needed on the lower level, sir."

"The lower level, you say? This building has a basement?"

SO Beita twisted his key and pressed the appropriate code, initiating the lift to close its doors and purr downward. "Security Center."

"Security Center! My security clearance seems to be rising." SO Beita didn't respond, however, Zack did notice a glance. "Question?"

"No question, sir."

"Soldiers that don't have questions don't send sidelong glances."

"No question, sir. Just thanks."

"Thanks, is it? For what am I thanked?"

The lift stopped, but the door didn't open. "For giving us the tools to bring one of our own home."

Zack smirked. "Truth be told, SO Beita, I began the ordeal as a way to get in to see my sister. Garden is self-sufficient, with exception to one item: finesse research. Without the dangle of that carrot, Sal-Gal continued to be held away from me."

SO Beita's expression grew taut before he focused on the control panel and turned his key. The lift doors opened. "I understand that, sir."

"SO Beita, one question."

"Yes, sir?"

"Well, perhaps more than one question."

SO Beita smirked. "Yes, sir?"

"You seem a capable sort. Why did you stop your plot against Galbadia Garden?"

"Someone special helped me see it wasn't what I wanted." With that, he stepped from the lift and motioned deeper within the construction. "After you, sir."

"Naturally." Zack regarded the young man's profile. _Dincht referenced SO Beita and Sally, didn't he? Something about a pink bunny? Hm._ "Women. They start wars and cease others."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I hope she is worth the trouble. Most often, the first six months are best. Stretch out much further and you've an expectation of trouble."

SO Beita chuckled but didn't offer any information.

"Let me know if you and the lady would have use of Timber Wolves tickets. Season Ticket holder."

The two stopped outside a sturdy door, which SO Beita unlocked with a swipe of his key. "Yes, sir."

Zack smirked and let himself into the conference room. "Thank you for the conversation, SO Beita. Enlightening as usual."

SO Beita saluted and shut the door.

"Interesting character," Zack mumbled.

"Mr. Regal."

Zack turned, offering a greeting nod to Cmdr. Squall, Lt. Eryn, and Lt. Cmdr. Serra from the Centra Agency. "Greetings, all. Kept you waiting again, I see."

"No more than what we're used to," Eryn offered.

"Touché." Zack sat in the first available chair. "So, now that you've found the man that can lead you to your other man, what do you need with me? I'm just in it for the story, not glory."

"Garden doesn't have your network of information," Squall said, "and we need that tie if we're going to continue our search. There is no guarantee we will get the informant."

"And there's no guarantee he will talk, right?"

The SeeD nodded.

Eryn leaned forward, attracting Zack's attention from across the table. "We'll do our duty, what you call 'glory,' and bring that bastard in for questioning. _But_, we need you and Serra to keep at the information retrieval. We can call in trackers; I know the best in the business. But you can call in favors that will reveal the who and where."

"I'm happy to do it, of course," Zack said. "I'll pull out all the stops if I'm allowed to witness the interrogation."

Eryn sent Squall a quick glance. "We'll need to take that under advisement," Squall said.

"Concerned the civilian populace won't understand the means that are necessary?"

"Civvies never understand," Eryn grumbled, arms crossed.

"Excuse me." Serra stood, her green eyes sharp and her tone calm. "We should stay on topic here, that being the discovery and retrieval of Seifer Almasy. We have the location of the man responsible for Candidate Almasy's ambush. So, we should focus on the best tactic to retrieve him. Everything else will settle itself."

Zack chuckled. "Three cheers for the new kid."

"Lt. Dwyre, you say you have the best tracker on staff. You should have him report here as soon as possible. I have a feeling that more will be revealed than simply the location of a traitor."

***

Zell tapped on Selphie's door. "Please be here," he mumbled. Though she could still be pissed from before.

The door opened to reveal Selphie in sweats and a sweatshirt. She wrinkled her nose. "Hey, Zell. Come on in."

"Thanks." He stepped past, shoving his hands deep into his pockets as he turned to watch her close the door.

"What do you need, Zell?"

"Are you still mad?"

"If you don't know _why_ I'm mad, then yes."

"So you'll get madder if I ask? That's not fair!"

"What isn't fair, Zell, is you." She sat cross-legged on her small couch.

"Why!"

Selphie waved a hand. "It wouldn't make any sense to you, so I won't take the time to explain. What do you want?"

Zell frowned. "Tch, c'mon! You're just saying that to piss me off."

"Do you blame me?"

"Yes, because I don't know what the hell I did!"

"Wrong answer." Selphie shifted her focus out the window and tightly crossed her arms.

"Dude." Zell slumped onto the couch beside her. "Selph, c'mon. You're the only one who ever puts up with me, and now you're pissed. Give me a break. What did I do?"

"We were going out, weren't we?"

"Yeah, what's that got to do with it? No one else wants to hang with me."

She frowned at him. "Going out doesn't mean 'hang with', Zell."

"Wha?"

"Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Hand holding. Kissing. Wasn't that where we were going?"

Zell's face twisted in consternation. "I like hanging out with you and stuff. You're cool and stuff. You know?"

"And stuff. Great." She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Should have known that, I guess. This is you we're talking about."

"What's that mean?"

"It means nothing, Zell. Just a reason."

"Um…oookay."

She lifted her shoulders in a sigh and shook her head. "Nothing. Never mind. It's gone. Over. Whatever."

"What is?"

"Exactly." She faced him. "So, what can I do for you, Zell?"

Confusion colored his blue eyes for a long moment before he shrugged it off. "Can I have one of your stuffed animals?"

"You what?"

"I want one of your stuffed animals. A big one. A rabbit or something."

Selphie stared at him for a long, silent moment before bursting with laughter.

"It's not for me! It's for Sally because I found out that Marshal gave her that bunny thing. I can't let him up me like that! She loves that thing, and I thought I should get her something better. I'd go to town and get one, but I've got an evening class and won't have the time until tomorrow. But what if Marshal gives her something else? He's been hanging around the infirmary and asking after her. She's all confused and stuff about me, so what if... what if..." He stood. "Oh forget it."

"Zell, wait." Selphie pulled him back onto the couch. "I didn't expect _you_ to ask for a stuffed toy. The thought of you carrying a big stuffed thing of cuteness past all those SeeD and candidates…."

"Better than Marshal hanging all over her," he said. "The guy's being a jerk."

"Just because he's nice to her doesn't make him a jerk! It's not his fault you're jealous."

Zell scoffed. Marshal was better with girls than him. If he went after the library girl... _the hell!_

"Stop moping. Geez. But, as a matter of fact, I picked up the cutest thing the other day. I was at that little market, and it was the only one. It was such a good deal and so adorable..." Her voice muffled as she went back to her room, fading back in as she reappeared holding a stuffed Tonberry about the size of a dog. Instead of the usual lantern, it carried a basket of silk flowers – which had a miniature cactuar in the middle – and it held a single flower instead of the usual knife.

"Sweet! A Tonberry!"

"They usually have that creepy look, with those glowing eyes and dirty robe? But doesn't this one have the cutest shy expression. And the robe has some kind of flowers stitched around the bottom." Selphie snuggled against it before handing it to him. "He's so cute and soft! I thought about giving it to Sally as a 'get well soon.' But you can give it to her instead, I guess."

"Thanks, Selph! This rocks!" He left the room before hearing her reply, not even taking the time to close the door after him.

Instead, he hurried down the hall of the dorm toward the infirmary. Anyone that sent him a weird look or laughed a comment about the doll received a rude gesture in return_._ At the infirmary, he took the time to straighten his uniform, slicking back his hair and checking his spike in the reflection of the door before pushing through– and stepping into Marshal.

Marshal glared as he straightened his uniform. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"It's a free Garden. I can go where I want."

"Don't you ever have a class?"

"Don't you ever…erm…don't you ever shut up!"

Marshal scoffed. "Dincht, if you ask her out, I swear I will hurt you."

"It's none of your damn business what I do, Beita."

"It is if she's involved."

"Tch! What'd you say?!"

"Think about it for a moment or three, Dincht," Marshal said, and his tone matched the dangerous gleam of his silver-blue eyes. "Why the hell would I be threatening to do harm if you asked a sweet thing like Sally Regal out on a date? I mean, what the hell am I thinking? Everyone and their senile dog knows that you two are an item—oh wait. Something seems to be wrong with that statement. Hm. Oh yeah! I remember." He leaned forward, pushing a finger hard into Zell's chest. "You didn't care, I always have. You didn't do a damn thing, so I did."

Zell's gaze blanked.

"That's right, Dincht. I asked her out the week before that damn T-Rexaur took a bite, and you know what? She said 'yes'. So what does that make what you're about to do? Encroachment, maybe?"

"If you two are… then why the hell is she paying attention to me? Huh? I think you're full of shit, Beita-Dawg, and I'm damn well going to prove it!"

Marshal's glare would have given an ordinary man pause. "Dincht. You watch your step around Sally or you will find your face on the other side of your head." Then he did an about-face and stalked away.

Zell sent a rude gesture his direction and then slammed into the infirmary. He heard a soft sniff and peeked around the partially drawn curtain, hiding the Tonberry behind his back. "Knock-knock." _Beita made her cry? …the hell?!_

Sally looked up and brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Hi." She offered a hesitant smile.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Zell stepped around the curtain, doing his best to keep the Tonberry completely hidden. "You doing okay?"

She nodded again, lowering her focus to the little pink bunny in her lap.

…_the hell…._ He hated that rabbit. "Want to talk about it at all?"

She shook her head while nuzzling the bunny. That action sent Zell's temper solar. He clenched his jaw and then lowered himself into the chair beside her bed. He drew the Tonberry from behind his back. "I got you something."

When Sally lifted her gaze, her smile brightened. "He's so cute! Where'd you find him?"

"Secret." Yeah. Like he'd confess he got it from Selphie. _Tch!_

Sally gave the Tonberry a hug. When she pulled back, she focused on the basket of flowers. "A cute little cactuar! Look at him, he's so _tiny_!"

Zell couldn't stop smiling. _Rock on, Dincht. You owe Selphie, big._

Then Sally set the Tonberry and cactuar carefully down and shifted to give Zell a tight hug. "Thank you, Zell."

"Hey. You're welcome. I felt bad about before, and I never know what to do when it happens, and that made me feel worse, so..." _Dincht, shut up!_

She pulled away, her gaze focused on the Tonberry and the bunny. While Zell hoped she picked up the Tonberry, she didn't. In fact, she didn't pick up either of them. Instead, she rested a hand on each animal's head. "I wish I could tell you."

"Well, why cantcha?"

"Because it doesn't matter. It never happened, and Dr. Levinne doesn't want me to keep thinking about them."

" 'Them' what? The coma memories?"

She sighed. "Yes. Those. They were only dreams, not memories."

"If they were dreams, you'll forget eventually, wontcha? I never remember my dreams."

She gave a slight nod. "I've already forgotten so many things already," she mumbled.

Zell shuffled his feet and sent a glance over his shoulder. "So, I guess you're kinda weirded out with Marshal, not knowing if you guys were…you know, going out."

She didn't say anything. Her hand only caressed the top of the bunny's head.

_Dincht, you jack ass!_ "So, you wanna do some workout stuff, or did you wanna wheel around the Garden some?"

"Can we… can we get out of here, please? I need to get out."

"Sure we can. Let me get your stuff." Zell tossed her the sweatshirt and sweatpants and then closed the curtain. _I'll ask her out, Beita-Dawg. Just watch me._ He just had to work up to it.

***

Eryn stared at the blank computer screen, her head propped up by her hand at her chin. All of their hopes had finally been confirmed, Seifer Almasy was alive, and they were now one step closer to finding him. She would finally have the chance to lead the retrieval they had all planned for so long.

Eryn had to admit to herself that she was dying to meet the somewhat infamous Seifer Almasy. Ever since the day he had taken control of Galbadia, her Garden, under Sorceress Edea's wing, she had been curious about him. She almost had to admire him. It took a special kind of person to rally an entire Garden to engage another of its own in combat...No small task.

Before she came to Balamb, Eryn had been in security at Galbadia, Special Operations. While she had been good at what she did there, she didn't see herself in security forever. Instead, Eryn had moved on to teaching both Battle Theory and History at Galbadia before becoming a student advisor. When Quistis Trepe declined the head of instruction position at Balamb, Eryn was able to transfer. Her skills from her former position proved useful on more than one occasion at Balamb, but she was always anxious to return to her students.

Eryn continued staring into the blank monitor, already planning who she wanted on her teams, what their functions would be, silently weighing the pros and the cons in her mind. The last step before the retrieval of the informant was verification of all the information received. She was still hesitant to put all of her faith in Zack Regal and his source, so she decided a small team would be best. First to be sent to Seifer's last known location. Then they would proceed to the location of the man who had started this hell.

They would need a tracker, a SeeD with the ability to disappear...Someone who could work quickly while still being a strong leader. There was only one man she'd consider; the best tracker in the entire Garden network, and her best friend: Jaxon Crest.

Eryn picked up the phone and dialed the number to Trabia, absently tapping the eraser end of her pencil on her desk as she waited for the call to connect. "Lt. Crest please. This is Lt. Dwyre calling from Balamb."

"One moment, please, Lieutenant," the operator said. While she listened to the hideous hold music, she couldn't help but smile a bit. She hadn't seen Jaxon in over a year, it would be like old times again.

The two had met when Eryn went to Trabia Garden as part of her rotation before proceeding to Balamb. They became fast friends and spent many a cold night huddled around a warm bottle of whiskey. There was not a soul on the planet she trusted more than him, and he was perfect for this job.

"TGS. Crest speaking."

"Jaxon, didn't the operator tell you it was me?"

"No, she didn't. How's it goin, E?" She could hear the smile in his greeting. It wasn't much of a nick name, but Jaxon had called her "E" since the day they met.

"Fine, fine. I have a request and wanted to ask you first." She tried to sound serious, at least for a moment.

He hesitated. "Go ahead, what's up?"

"We're going to get the one responsible for the Seifer Almasy ambush. Things have just… exploded in the last 48 hours. We have an informant from Centra, but we need visual confirmation. I want you on the advance team. You're the best tracker SeeD has."

"I am?"

Eryn chuckled. "Well, that's what I'm telling anyone who asks."

"Alright, I'll do it. When do you need me?"

She glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall above her door, "How 'bout tonight? I won't be able to greet you, but I'll tell Dincht you're coming in."

"Eryn, short notice like this always sends my superior into a tailspin, especially since the man is in traction." He hesitated again. "But you know what, I don't care. This sounds like an adventure and I've been looking for one of those lately."

"Good, get packed and on the next transport to Balamb. I'll see you at 0800 in the morning, Commander Leonhart's office." She flipped on her computer and waited for it to boot.

"Are we going to have time to go carousing? Or is this trip a test of my sobriety?"

She chuckled, "Oh. Trust me. We'll have time. The OP is only supposed to take one day. I've got your temp transfer set for seven." She typed the needed information into the transfer request.

"Eryn, I think I love you."

"Whatever, Jaxon." she said with a laugh. "You don't love me, you love my signature on forms that get you out of that frozen popsicle stand."

"What do you mean? I love Trabia. It's so... cold... here." He began humming the Trabia Garden song.

"Yeah, right. I'm going to transfer this request, you go pack."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good boy. See ya soon."

"Bye, E."

Eryn sat at her desk for only a moment more to finish her friend's transfer papers before she jumped up and sped towards security.

* * *

Seifer Almasy glared up at the sun. It glared back.

"Are you kidding me?" he grumbled as he trudged on. Lost in the middle of a desert, the taste of freedom began to sour.

"Survival lessons. Yeah. That's what I'll do. I'll take effin survival lessons. No. No, I'll stay awake during those effin lessons." Swiping up a rock from the sand, he chucked it hard. "Puberty boy better be busting his ass to get me out of this god forsaken shit hole, or so help me Hyne I'll hand his ass to his face." Seifer chuckled. "That's damn funny. I'll have to tell Raijin that one—"

He stumbled and went down, the sand scorching his hand. "God damn it!" Blowing on his palm as he staggered to his feet, he sent the sun another furious glance.

It glared back.

"When I get back to Garden," he said with a shake of fist, "I'm going to put a missile right in your smug pie-hole." Chortling to himself, Seifer Almasy trudged on. "That's damn funny."


	10. The Ladies

_Ten ~ The Ladies ~_

Marshal stepped into the infirmary with an unreadable expression, a candidate uniform on a hanger, and a wheelchair.

I bolted upright, clapping as I laughed, "Oh goodie! Field trip, and in uniform!"

"I had to break into your dorm room to get this from your closet. None of them look like they're going to fit you anymore. You were always small, but I swear you couldn't fill a glove now."

"Oh be quiet. It will be fine. Gimme!" I snatched the uniform from his outstretched hand. "Quick. Draw the curtain and let me change into this. Oh my goodness, this is going to be awesome! Where are we going again?"

"Don't play Miss Innocence with me, Candidate Regal. I didn't tell you where we were going, only that we _were_ going."

"I don't care where we're going," I assured, my fingers having difficulty fastening the snaps, hooks and buttons. "Blast! I'm so excited I can't even work these things anymore."

"Decent?"

"Yes."

"Coming in." He pulled back the curtain and stepped up, gently pushing my hands out of the way. "Candidate Regal, you are in a sad shape of disrepair."

I couldn't stop smiling as I watched him fasten each hook and button. "I don't care, Mars. I'm just looking—What's the matter?" His fingers had stopped their work, drawing my curious glance to his blank expression.

He held my gaze for a brief moment before focusing again on the duty of hook and button. "Mars. You called me that the day of…that day."

"Oh…."

He straightened the collar of my uniform, his touch lingering. "It's nice to hear again." His gaze darted from mine and then he wheeled the chair close. "All aboard."

I stared down at the chair with a darkening frown. "Couldn't we forgo the chair?"

"Not acceptable. Dr. Kadowaki won't allow you to leave the infirmary unless your butt is seated in this device."

"Do you think I'm an invalid too?" I complained as I slumped into the chair.

"You're about as invalid as I am."

"Thank you! Now tell that to Dr. Kadowaki and Dr. Levinne!"

"I would if I thought it would change any action on their already long list of 'to do's, but alas, Candidate Regal, I am but a lowly Security Officer."

"Lowly? Puh-lease. You're second to Fujin." I turned, fixing him with an accusatory stare. "And don't deny that either. I asked."

He didn't meet my gaze. "Well, once the all mighty Almasy is discovered, I'll be third. Unless he transfers my ass to Trabia."

"Why would he do that?"

This time Marshal fixed me with that charming smirk and silver wink. "Because that's what Almasy does, Candidate. He pushes buttons."

"But he can't!"

"Transfer me? Hyne's ass, he can't. The Network depends on his placement. If my going keeps his placement, then I go."

I frowned, my heart pounding in my chest as I faced forward. The thought of Marshal leaving… it gave me chills! He was the one person the same from dream to reality, so how could I… how could I lose that?

"Before you spiral into despair with the tale of my flight, when did you want to go out on said dinner?"

_Dinner? Date!_ I spun to face him. "Would I be able to leave? Please tell me I would be able to leave the campus!"

Marshal's eyebrow twitched. "Of course you wouldn't be able to leave the campus, Candidate Regal. You're still on medical watch."

"Drat." I slumped back, arms crossed. "What I wouldn't give to get outside for ten minutes!"

"I will see what strings I can pull, but it will cost you."

I laughed, clapping as he wheeled me into the lift and inserted his key into the slot for the basement level. "Oh goodie! Security Center field trip!"

"Not just Security Center. Firing room."

"Woo hoo!"

Marshal chuckled. "You sound like Selphie."

"I'm sorry, Mars," and I almost cringed when I heard the tightening of his hands on the handlebars. "It's just that I'm so excited to get away from all the tests," I hurried on.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "You feel like a test tube inhabitant, I'm sure."

_I also don't know what to do about you and Zell._ The attention was nice, kept me distracted, but it wasn't helping me decide anything. I didn't even know if I _needed_ to decide anything. What had Zee said? Just act 19? All I had to do was think back about six years….

"Sally?"

"Hm?"

"Did you want to walk on your own limbs? Or should I wheel you in?"

"Oh! I'll walk!" And I almost tripped over my own foot in enthusiasm to be out of the chair.

"Ease up there, Candidate Regal. If I wheel you back with bruises or welts, I'm grounded." He parked the chair to the side and unlocked the firing room door, a hand at my elbow as I entered. "Welcome to my happy place."

It was drab, with an insulated quiet that one would expect of a firing room. There were three firing stations, and I noticed that the first had Marshal's nameplate. "You have your own station?"

"Huh? Oh. Heh. Yeah, that's a joke. I'm in here so often that they decided to give me station one."

I smiled at him, watching his eyes spark and the color rise in his cheeks. "That was really nice of them."

"Eh. I guess, for a bunch of punks. But here. This is where the fun begins." He guided me to station one with a hand at my back. "And here are the Ladies."

Marshal checked both .45s as I watched with wide-eyed curiosity. They looked powerful in their innocence, these guns, and his intent to teach me how to shoot overwhelmed me a little. Overwhelmed me and made me a bit giddy, to be truthful. Janine would have been laughing up a storm.

Finally, Marshal handed me one, butt first. "Here. Let's try Janine first."

I blanched, my hand frozen on the grip. My gaze drifted up to meet Marshal's curious expression. "What did you say?" I whispered.

"Janine. Lady number one." He hefted the other one, revealing the engraved nameplate. "Jennifer is Lady number two. I told you that, didn't I? Two friends I lost in the skirmish with Galbadia?" Marshal tucked the Ladies away when I took a step back. "Hey…." He encircled my shoulders with an arm and drew me close. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

At first, I could only stare at the guns in their leather holster and wonder what to think about every person that had found their way into my dreams. Marshal was like Zell. Saerin was like Eryn and, actually, so was Janine. Janine was a gun? The name of her friend killed in the line of battle, Jennifer, was a gun? How did something like that happen? How do dreams get so wrapped up in wishes and imagination to become so real that a person had difficulty separating one from the other?

"Sally?" Marshal caressed my face with the back of his finger, drawing my focus back from its dangerous spiral inside. "Sally, what is it? The dreams again?"

I could only offer a slight nod in response, my throat collapsing around the words.

"OK. Is it the guns themselves," I shook my head, "or the names?" I nodded. "OK." Marshal retrieved Janine once again and offered it forward. "Here," he said in a quiet tone, "take it slowly. I won't let go. You just lift it when you're ready. Just seems the thing to do. All right?"

Again, all I could do was nod as I followed his direction, at first just resting my hand on the grip. I felt the cold material warm to my touch as I stared at the engraved nameplate of sterling silver: Janine. She would have loved the idea of being a gun, the dual act of protection and violence would have thrilled her. And the thought of being involved with vengeance was apropos, really. Janine had been the epitome of vengeance to me.

"I'm going to turn her over, so you can feel the other side. See that it's no different. OK?"

"…ok." I sniffed and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

"We don't have to do this now, Sally. You know that, right?"

"I-I know, but I don't care. It needs to be over. I'm tired of seeing shadows, tired of being scared to tears at the littlest thing. I'm done with it, Mars. Done, done, _done._"

"I know you are, Girl. I know. You're taking it a helluva lot better than I would."

That elicited a reluctant smile as I met his gaze. _He has really pretty eyes…._ "Thank you. You're lying, but I appreciate the thought."

"Would I lie to you, sweet thing?"

"In a heart beat." My heart took a leap at the 'sweet thing', but I quickly calmed it. _No need going aflutter on a firing range! That's just not appropriate!_ Appropriate for what, I had no idea, but it seemed the safer route.

"Psh. I never would."

"You mean I never would find out."

He smirked. "OK. So that was what I meant."

That smirk of his was a bomb to my calm. _Why is he so cute?!_ He was a charmer, to be certain. "OK. I think I'm ready to pick her up."

"Just do it at your speed, Sally. No rush."

My speed happened to be slower than slow. In a succession of tiny steps, I guess. First I tightened my grip, careful to rest my finger away from the trigger. Then I lifted her up so that she was upright and no longer on her side – is it odd to refer to a gun as a 'her'? – with the butt resting still in Marshal's hand. His eyes never ceased their examination of my face, which had my cheeks alternating between pallor and crimson.

"You're doing good."

I brought up my other hand, now gripping the gun with both, and very carefully lifted the butt from Marshal's palm. He didn't lower his hand until I whispered, "…ok…."

He immediately stepped behind me, holding my forearms in his hands as support. His hair gel smelled so good…. "We can just – bend your elbows a bit. Good. – we can just stay like this if you want. Getting comfortable with the feel is as important as actually shooting the gun."

To be honest, I didn't mind staying like that. He was very warm, and the firing room was on the cold side. "It's not that heavy."

"Janine is the lighter of the two, for some reason. She shoots easier, too. Trigger. I think the material she's crafted with has something to do with the weight. She's my favorite of the two, don't tell Jennifer."

I laughed, "Silly boy," and to my mild horror and surprise I used the endearing tone previously reserved for Zell.

Marshal cleared his throat and gave my forearms a momentary squeeze. "If you want to try a shot, just scoot up to the shelf there. See the mag?"

I nodded. His breath smelled like cinnamon.

"That is your ammo."

I twisted my head around to meet his gaze. "She's going to be heavier?"

"A little. Not so bad. You'll see." He smiled, and my heart fluttered away somewhere. "You better turn around, sweet thing, or I won't be held responsible for my actions. Your hair smells like vanilla and I'm getting the munchies."

My cheeks colored and I turned as requested while mumbling something that I don't think either one of us understood.

"OK. Let's take a shot. Step up. There you go. I'll put the headphones on you. There. Comfortable? Good. Let me turn on the mic so I don't need to shout. Can you hear me OK? Good. Did you want to insert the mag, or do you want me to do it?"

I regarded the simple looking magazine and then tipped Janine over to spot the receptacle. "I want to try it. Is it a hard slam?"

"Not too hard. Just kind of pop it in. You'll hear a firm, metallic click. Guide it in. Just like that. Good girl. And then pop with the palm of your hand. Like you're slapping my face."

I laughed. "Marshal. Honestly."

"Honestly. You think I kid." He retrieved Janine from my grasp and popped the mag into place. "See?" He released the catch and slid the magazine free, presenting both back to me. "You do it, just like that."

"This is so exciting," I confessed. "I feel like… like a real soldier when I handle a gun. Like I'm dangerous. Like I could do anything."

He smirked. "You _are_ dangerous, and you _can_ do anything. Not only because of the guns, either, Sally."

Blushing, I chose not to comment as I guided the mag into place and then popped it as instructed. "It worked!" I quickly offered the gun to Marshal so he could check, clapping my hands when he sent me a wink of approval. "Oh goodie!"

"Are you ready to shoot? We can do that another time, if you like."

"No, I want to try it now. Is that OK?"

"Sure it's OK! I have the room reserved for another 30 minutes." He closed the blinds and then brought the paper target to approximately 10 meters. "This should be easy enough for you. Here. Let me help you with the first shot or two."

Like before, he stood close behind me, supporting my forearms with a gentle grip as he gave me simple instructions on what to do and what to expect. Do I remember any of it? No way.

"Now. Take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and squeeze the trigger. Don't pull it, squeeze."

I nodded and did as directed, feeling the kick of the gun in my palm when I did so. If it hadn't been for Marshal's steadying hold, I probably would have hit myself in the forehead. The guns were too big for me!

"Good shot, Sally! Look at that. Left shoulder. The perp would have hit the ground with that shot."

I smiled up at him, completely comfortable.

"Did you want to shoot on your own a couple times?"

"No, that's all right. It's too much gun for me to handle by myself."

"I noticed that." He gently squeezed my nose, still smiling. "Did you want to shoot again?"

"One more time would be fun, if you don't mind."

"I told you I don't mind." He gave my shoulders a squeeze as I once more steadied my stance and aimed at the target. He supported my forearms, his breath tickling my cheek as he leaned in near my ear. "Squeeze off two shots in quick succession. OK? Pop, pop. Just like that. Remember to squeeze the trigger and not pull."

Again, I followed his direction. This time, I got two shots to the paper target's chest.

"Hot damn, look at that!"

"You make it easy."

"It is easy."

Smiling, I handed Janine back, watching as he tucked her securely away. "Thank you. I appreciate your patience."

"Patience has nothing to do with it, Sally. You know I like having you to myself."

I lowered my gaze, clasping my hands behind my back. "It feels nice to be with you, too." Which, of course, made me feel as if I committed adultery…. His silence drew a peek, but his eyes focused ahead.

"Do you remember anything yet?"

"Sometimes I think I will…and then it just fades to black." I came to stand beside him, looking up at his handsome profile when he didn't turn to face me. "Are you sure you won't tell me about that week? Maybe it will help?"

To my surprise, he shrugged. "It doesn't matter, Sally. Not really. We'll make our own week."

"But I want to remember yours."

He smiled this time, looking over at me with those striking silver-blue eyes that stopped my breath. "This room is too dark for safety," he said gruffly. "Come with me, Candidate Regal." He grasped my hand and led me from the room, smiling down at me with those beautiful eyes that made me flush and look away. "When you look at me like that, it makes me think you remember."

"I really want to remember."

"It isn't so bad that you don't, Sally," he assured. "Back then I felt as if I forced you into something you didn't really want. Well, at least, you weren't certain you wanted all of it at that moment." He focused ahead as his hand gripped mine. "A part of me thinks that is why you were in the T.C. when you should have been at class. Trying to work things out. When I heard…." He shook his head as he cleared his throat.

I tugged him to a stop and rested a hand on his arm. He continued to stare forward. "Mars, it's not your fault."

"Not so certain I can whole-heartedly believe that quite yet, but I'm getting there." He sent me a glance. "You want to go to the T.C.? For a walk? I'm not on duty for another couple of hours."

"That would be nice."

"I'll have someone wheel the chair out by the lift. We can pick it up on the way back to the infirmary. Sound good?"

I nodded, clapping my hands with a whispered, "Oh goodie!" that had Marshal chuckling and me laughing immediately after. I really enjoyed being with Marshal. It was so… so… easy.

"Come on. Let's get out of here before Fujin sees me with you and decides I'm not busy enough. She receives a sadistic pleasure in giving me duties when I'm off duty—Uh oh."

"What—oh…."

Fujin strode toward us with her usual stern expression. "BEITA. MEETING. THIRTEEN HUNDRED HOURS."

He glanced to his watch. "It was on my calendar, Fuj. I have two hours before I'm on duty, and two more before the meeting. Everything is all set. The hall is ready to go. When I come on duty, I planned to triple check everything beforehand. Acceptable?"

Fujin's one visible eye narrowed on Marshal before she focused on me. I smiled and saluted. If there was one positive from the dreams/memories, it was my… comfortableness with who Fujin was.

"NAME."

"Fu—"

Fujin sent Marshal a silencing glare before once again honing in on me. "NAME."

"Candidate Sally Regal." Again, I smiled.

Her eye narrowed a bit more, but then she nodded and stalked away. I was so excited I could have jumped for joy.

"My, my. Will wonders never cease. The sweet thing has a firm candy coating."

Laughing, I gave Marshal's arm a squeeze before following him out of the Security Center. _Yay me!_

"You think I kid. I have never seen you at ease with Fujin in the surrounding field of vision, Sally. Are you expecting me to believe that one day you pop up from a coma and you can face-down The Fuj?"

I only smiled at him.

"Not to say that I don't relish the thought, I told you that this fire-cracker business is quite the hotness, but what happened to the shy librarian I asked to be my one and only?"

My cheeks colored. "Aww. That's sweet. Is that really what you asked?"

"I'm only that suave after the fact," he complained, "which is not the point. Changes of subject are against regulation, Candidate Regal. The answer to my question?"

"You're so funny!"

While he did smile, and his silver-blue eyes did twinkle, his serious persona slipped into place immediately. "Candidate, will I need to put you into a headlock? If so, I won't hesitate."

I accepted his offer of first entry into the lift. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Don't hurt me, SO Beita. I'm defenseless."

"The temptation to check is overpowering." He swiped his key and the lift doors closed. It rushed upward.

"Marshal! Honestly."

"Again, you think I kid." He took a menacing step forward.

"Hey now, soldier. You just behave yourself. I'm on medical watch, remember?" And the scenario was so reminiscent of something with Zell that I couldn't decide if my heart pounded from horror… or euphoria.

"I will remember," he promised, another step my direction. "It will serve as an excellent test of my subduance training."

I laughed, even though I had backed myself up against the wall of the lift. "That's not even a word."

"Does it matter?" He had stepped so close that his cinnamon breath caressed my face… then the lift halted and the doors slid open. "_You_, Candidate Regal, are lucky."

My only response was a single nod as I stared up at him with wide eyes, not certain what I felt about anything. Then he smiled that playful smirk and gently pinched my chin, inviting me to smile and melting the fear. _Sally,_ I told myself, _don't push those buttons anymore._

"Chipped that candy coating, I see. Go, Dawg." He stepped back as he gathered my hand in his. "At least I know the Sally I remember is right around the corner. Hotness aside, it plays with a guy's head when the sweet thing has a tart side."

It was the most ridiculous thing I had heard, eliciting a giggle as we exited the lift and headed down the main corridor toward the T.C. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He winked and gave my hand a squeeze. "You were fun before, but now you're…"

"Trouble?"

"That's for damn sure. As in, I'm in big trouble if I don't play my cards right. The sad thing is: I suck at Triple Triad."


	11. The M Word

_Eleven ~ The 'M' Word ~_

I don't remember a time when I laughed as much as I did with Marshal on the way to the T.C. He was charming, and funny, and only mildly irritating (only because he liked saying things to make my face turn crimson). In addition to that, because we were both in security (mostly), we had so much in common. By the time we got to the T.C., we had fallen into comparing security stories and were having difficulty speaking through the laughter.

Why _wouldn't_ I say 'yes' to dating Marshal?

My knee suddenly gave and he grabbed me to prevent a fall. "What the hell? Are you ok?"

"Ow… my knee suddenly—"

"Here. Sit." He guided me to a nearby fallen log and steadied me as I sat. "Has it done that before?"

"No, but I haven't walked this much yet either."

Marshal frowned and fisted a hand, scrubbing his scalp with the other. He swore under his breath.

"Mars, it's—"

"It's not OK, and it's not your fault. I'm the ass who left your chair by the lift."

"Fine. You can carry all the blame, but do it over here and stop fuming. You'll overheat the temperature control." I patted the log beside me.

He continued to glare, arms crossed.

"Or you can stand there and be grumpy by yourself."

"Thank you. It's more fun this way." He plopped down beside me.

"What happened to being grumpy by yourself?"

"What's the fun in that? You should be just as miserable."

I laughed so hard I thought I would tumble over backwards. "You're impossible!"

"Not really. That's my charm."

"Is that what they're calling it now?"

"Ouch." He covered his heart with his hand, except he covered the wrong side. "Candidate Regal, that hurt."

I moved his hand to the appropriate side. "There you go."

He laughed and drew me close. Such a simple gesture, but it shot tingles up and down my spine that made me nauseous. I couldn't let him hold me like Zell would and make me feel like Zell would. It made me hurt inside… as if I cheated on Zell and Marshal both. I pushed a little away, trying not to notice the mild resistance or the pained expression when I sat up.

"Do I need to go?"

All I cared to risk was a shake of my head. It was something I had to work out, I knew it, and doing that would be a constant thing. If he went, then I wouldn't have a reminder of what I was doing it for. Of course, I didn't even know if that made sense. I only knew that Marshal was a constant. Something I thought I would have in Zell, but… but I don't know.

A knife seemed to prick my brain just behind my left eye, and I did a poor job of hiding the wince.

Marshal stood. "I can give you ten alone, Sally."

"No." I met his gaze. "Please. Don't go."

He clenched his jaw. "You've had a rough time. I get that, but I can't help unless I know what you want me to do." He sat close, his silver eyes sparking as he squeezed my hand. "Talk to me."

"Dr. Levinne says I'm not supposed to. He and Matron say that if I keep talking like it happened, I won't move on. I won't ever stop missing it." Looking up to meet Marshal's silver gaze, I whispered, "I don't want to forget, but I don't want it to hurt anymore."

Marshal brushed at my cheek with his thumb. "Sally, shutting down is driving you nuts. You want to talk, so talk. It's like anything else fun you would talk about. And weren't you having a blast just a bit ago telling stories about security?"

I worried my lower lip. "You really think I should talk about them?"

"Where's the harm? You can't tell me that on the way here you didn't feel better. And they were great stories!"

"But what if... What if it's something really different, and might make the other person uncomfortable? I should... I should keep that to myself. Shouldn't I?"

"That's up to you. You've got to trust your gut."

I lowered my gaze to my clasped hands as I mulled it over.

Marshal let out a deep breath, and I caught the motion of scrubbing his scalp out of the corner of my eye. It made me feel bad, that I caused such stress. Neither he nor Zell deserved it, they were both great guys, and I didn't know how to stop.

"I better get the chair," he said as he stood.

"I can probably walk. It feels better."

"You can 'probably' do a lot of things, like sitting your ass on that log and waiting for me to get back."

I laughed. "Yes, sir," I acknowledged with a salute.

"That's better. I'll be back in ten. Twenty if I'm cornered by Fujin."

He winked and left the T.C., leaving me to my conundrum of Zell versus Marshal. I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. The Fates could kill me now and relieve a lot of strain.

"Hey."

I looked up, straight into the beautiful blue eyes of Zell Dincht. "Hi." My stomach felt as if I had swallowed a lead balloon.

"What is Beita thinking bringing you out here? And where the hell's your chair?"

Frowning, I crossed my arms. "He went to get it. I was tired of being wheeled around everywhere and so I asked to go for a walk. OK?"

"No, it's not OK. Beita knows you're on med watch. …the hell?"

"I'm not a cripple. I have feet. I can walk." _Sally Regal! Did you just snap at Zell?_

"You can walk yourself right into an injury," he reminded.

The tension began to escalate, something I definitely didn't need at that point in time. "You're right." I held my breath a moment. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take my frustrations out on you. I'm just tired."

"And you hurt yourself, didn't you?"

I grimaced down at the offending knee.

"Damn it." He knelt, feeling my knee with gentle but probing touches. "Dude. This knee is way tight. Shit," he hissed. "Did you twist it?"

"No." But I hadn't been paying that much attention to how I walked.

"Geez," Zell muttered. "Doc's never going to let you workout if things like this keep happening on my watch."

And the way he groused and hovered over me as he treated my knee brought back all the memories of my workout sessions with him here. The fun, the hardships, the trials of working out the new routines…. I lifted my gaze from Zell's spiked hair to the T.C. around me, allowing the visions to trickle in and not caring if it sent me deeper into my conundrum. "My most favorite memories of this place are my workout sessions with you," I said softly.

Zell blinked up at me. "Workout sessions?"

Nodding, I released a soft breath. "At first you were helping me pass the Exam Qualifier. Then you told me the quarterstaff wasn't right and started teaching me Duel."

"Teaching you Duel? Seriously?"

I smiled, and the action hurt my face. "That first day we worked out together, here, I… I was scared to death. But looking back, you made it easy. You made me feel as if I could do it." I lowered my gaze to his hands that continued to massage my knee. "You always did—" I felt a tear run free and swiped it away. "Sorry. I don't mean to be a cry-baby."

He stared up at me for a long moment before focusing on my knee. "You can talk about it if you want. I don't mind if you go off." He smirked. "I go off all the time."

I reached out to smooth his blond hair into place before I could stop myself, remembering so many wonderful things. Even when my conscience twisted my insides I couldn't pull away. If it hadn't been for our walk to Balamb to visit his mother that glorious day... "Could you show me 'Booya'?" _Sally. Don't do this._

Zell looked up. "The move? Sure." He stood, set his stance, and performed the movements as smooth as ever.

Shaking my head, I ignored the part of me that warned to let this dream-memory go. "No, Zell. I mean can you show _me_ 'Booya.'"

He blinked down at me. "You mean do it on you?"

I nodded. _Sally, no. Do you hear me? NO._

Zell rubbed the back of his neck, just as he had back then… so many amazing years ago. "Sure, if you really want. What about your knee?"

"I just want to try something." Something that should have been best left alone, I knew, but— "Please?"

Zell grinned and helped me to my feet. "What the hell. Sounds like fun."

He set his position. I did the same. He was quick. I wasn't. Not even with all my remembered training. Not even with my almost painful desire to be good at this one thing. He infiltrated my defenses without a problem, grabbing my shirtfront and pulling me close— and then he kissed me.

I jerked back and slapped his face, my next response a gasp and quick "I'm sorry!" as my entire coma life crumbled away. All I saw was Marshal's pained expression. I heard the agony in his voice when he accused me of erasing him from my memory… and I felt as if I was going to vomit.

Zell's face and ears reddened. "Sorry, Meg."

My stomach churned and I actually heaved, slapping my hand over my mouth to try and preserve my dignity.

He was quick to steady me. "You OK? You need the doc?"

"N-No. I'm fine, it's just... It's just this is..." Swallowing was difficult, and I didn't want to look up into his gaze and see confusion. "You first called me that here. When we first worked out. I... I guess I didn't think I'd ever hear it again."

"Called you what? 'Meg'?"

I risked a nod. "Short for mega-phoenix. I always liked it best," I admitted, and I was careful to keep my eyes focused on a particular section of his Balamb-blue t-shirt. " 'Kitten' was nice, especially how you said it, and I always liked how you said my name. Who knew a name could sound like that..." I sighed, closing my eyes to drift in the memories… but now I heard Marshal say my name.

"Can I ask you a question?"

The jolt to reality was harsh, and I winced before I opened my eyes. Zell's expression showed concern.

"How come you freak out around me?"

I paled and dropped my gaze.

"I guess I should suck it up, but... It... Well, it's kinda freakin' me out, I guess."

"I'm really sorry, Zell. I don't mean to do it."

"I know. And I kinda figured that, but geez. I know I've got quirks that tick people off and stuff. Just tell me which one it is. I can stop. Swear."

"You can't stop being who you are."

"...huh?"

"I..." I closed my eyes, willing the Zell from my dreams into my mind's eye. _Please come back to me…._ My eyes opened and were drawn to his. "Do you remember me saying I dreamt in my coma?"

Zell nodded.

"I..." I stopped, wondering again if confessing would be such a great idea. Yes, he had asked, but he didn't know what he did with that ask…. But right then I wanted to tell Zell everything. "My coma dreams took place over about eight years, and I… I woke up after..." I swiped at my cheek, my throat tightening so that I could barely hear myself… "I woke up after we'd been married for two."

Like in my fantasy when he had discovered my crush, Zell leaned back with a shocked "Wha–?" But as realization dawned and I didn't say anything more, his eyes darted to the nearest avenue of escape.

I shifted my stare to his sneakers, my throat tightening as only the roars and mewls of the Training Center inhabitants broke the silence.

"I've... uh..." Zell scrubbed at the back of his neck as he got to his feet. "I forgot I've got a ... er." Zell stepped back once, twice... "Appointment! Yeah. You'll be okay by yourself, yeah? Yeah. Um... I'll see ya 'round... maybe... Yeah..."

Then he continued out of the T.C. and didn't look back.

I was the only one to blame, letting myself be persuaded that Zell wouldn't mind this particular fantasy. I fought the tears and rubbed at my throbbing forehead. _I only told him what he wanted to know!_ But why had I said anything? Like the 'Booya' kiss debacle, any confession of the dreams were a manipulation. Was that the type of person I wanted to be? Someone who used things like that to make people feel sorry for me?

Did I want to get Zell that way? Or did I want Zell to want me?

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I muttered. The animals in the T.C. seemed to yell it back at me. "Oh shut up."

But he had been so attentive, and he gave me the stuffed animal... _So what? That's what guys do,_ I reminded myself. Had I put a lot of meaning to things just because it was Zell? I puffed out a sigh as Dr. Levinne and Matron's words haunted me. All this time I had known they were right, but I couldn't put aside the hope that things could be the same, even just a little.

The killer being that I didn't realize how much hope I had held until now.

Lifting my gaze to stare at the metal double-doors of the Training Center, I just sat there. Not knowing where to go next. In my fantasy I had a definite purpose. Now, I floundered. I pushed myself to my feet and stepped forward, ignoring the pain in my knee. When I got to the double-doors, I pushed them open to make my way deeper inside. The mewls and growls of the inhabitants quieted somewhat as they watched me. I'm sure I didn't paint a very threatening picture with my hesitant gait and petite form.

_This isn't very smart,_ I chided. _Your training was in your fantasy. Remember?_

It was at that moment I realized what Jaxon must have felt to be surrounded by memories of his fiancée and yet not have _her_. He had used a GF to escape, even at the risk to his person, and at that point in my struggle through one reality to the other, I was this close to doing the same thing. Then, when I heard the T-Rexaur roar, it flared to life a desire to let the beast finish what it had started two years before.

To just let me go.

My throat tightened, a tear brimming and falling as I clenched my hands into fists.

"You alright?"

I twitched, the startle reaction freeing a choked sob. Marshal stood there, holster clasps undone and expression wary as he watched me. I looked away again, out toward the shadowed lushness of the T.C.'s deeper forest. I couldn't answer his question. Every time I thought I was, something reminded me how much starting over I still had to do. Every time I thought 'I can do this', something showed me I wasn't so sure I could.

I didn't know how.

I slightly shook my head.

Marshal moved to stand beside me, watching my profile as I kept staring ahead while hoping and wishing that stupid T-Rexaur would come through those trees and take me on. So I could kick its butt? So I could just get eaten? Who knew? I wanted to blame something. I wanted to _do_ something to make it go away. GFs were banned and I didn't even know where to get one. Going back into a coma was out of the question because I didn't want to dream any more.

What else could I do?

A cold touch to my arm drew my attention. Marshal offered Janine forward. "Here," he said in a low tone. "It usually makes me feel better."

Shaking my head again, I tightened my fisted hands so much that it hurt. "No. Thank you." I heard a pop from my knuckles.

"So what do you suggest?" Marshal said, tucking Janine away. "You want me to lure the T out so you can try and beat its brains in and end up being its snack instead? You know what? That sounds like fun. Let's do that."

"What else am I supposed to do?" I turned on him, tears coursing down my cheeks. "If it hadn't been for that T, I wouldn't be in this crappy existence!"

"Asleep and living a fantasy isn't any kind of life, Sally, and you know that!"

"I'd have Zell!" I screeched. "I'd have rank and station and a life that I lived based on choices that I made! This life is _crap_, Marshal, because I have _nothing_!"

"So you lost your fantasy world and a little bit of good luck. Your life doesn't revolve around an ass named Zell Dincht!"

I punched him before I even admitted that's what I wanted to do. "Why couldn't it have been _you_ in my dreams?" I lashed out. "Why did it have to be him when he wasn't like how he was supposed to be?"

Marshal just stood there, deflecting some strikes but taking all the others as I ranted and sobbed. I couldn't stop hitting him, even when the hits were weak thumps to his chest. I sobbed and he simply stood there, taking it again and again. Being stable. Being a wall. Being Marshal.

I felt my legs buckle. He caught me by the arms and drew me close, saying "I know, Sally. Life sucks shit," as I kept crying. There just wasn't anything left to do.


	12. Rules of Engagement

_Twelve ~ Rules of Engagement ~_

Marshal shed his uniform coat and tossed it aside as he strode down the infirmary hallway toward the main corridor. His eyes narrowed, scanning the candidates and SeeD in the hallways as he unfastened the cuffs of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Candidates and SeeD alike moved to the wayside as he passed, staring after him with wide eyes.

They had never seen Marshal Beita wearing an expression of unbridled rage.

Shrugging out of his dual leather holster, he shoved it into the hands of a passing SeeD without glance or pause. One SeeD had attracted his focus, and one SeeD was about to be physically engaged.

"Dincht."

The fountain itself seemed to go silent as every SeeD and candidate turned as one. A single SeeD didn't turn.

Without looking from the solitary SeeD with the blond spike, Marshal addressed the crowd. "Everyone clear the halls. Now."

The reverb of marching feet lasted but a few moments.

"When I left Candidate Regal to acquire her wheelchair, she was fine."

Zell fisted his hands but didn't turn.

"I returned to find her wandering inside the T.C. without escort. As if that wasn't enough, I was this close to being asked to take on a T with just The Ladies." Marshal yanked Zell to face him and pointed at his split lip and black eye. "These were meant for you, dickhead, and I'm giving you thirty seconds to tell me what the hell set her off before I pass this message along."

"Get off me!" Zell shoved free. "I don't know what happened!"

"Wrong answer, Dincht. Twenty seconds."

"She was talking about her coma dreams, OK, and she said we'd been married!"

"…what?"

"In her coma we were married, Dawg, so I ran my ass out of there. What the hell does a spaz like me know about being married?"

"I see. So, because she told you that, you left her there by herself thinking a million different things that sent her into the T.C. by herself. Got it." Marshal adjusted his rolled sleeves. "I'm going to kick your ass now."

Zell dodged the left jab but caught the right hook on the jaw. He staggered back, his expression wide-eyed amazement as blood flowed from his now split lip.

"I told you to leave her alone," Marshal reminded in a dangerously calm voice. He swung, caring little that Zell blocked. "But no! Not the great Zell Dincht!" Two jabs deflected, and then a right, but the roundhouse caught him in the mouth. "So you can go to hell."

"_You_ go to hell!" Zell raged. He caught Marshal with a quick double-strike to ribs and face that sent him reeling backwards. "Step off, Dawg."

Marshal straightened and wiped the blood from his mouth, his face stretching in an evil grin. "Bring it, Booya-boy. Your ass is mine."

***

Eryn stepped onto the lift down the hall from her second floor office. She had just enough time to stop at the cafe for a quick bite before her next appointment. She absently faced out the clear glass of the elevator, glancing down at the folder in her hands— Her attention snapped to what appeared to be a fight in front of the directory. Eryn strained to identify the offending SeeDs. It looked like, _No...It couldn't be...Marshal and Zell?_

The lift chimed its ground level arrival, and she couldn't get off fast enough. She tossed the folder aside, sending papers everywhere, and bolted down the stairs toward the scene. She cringed as Marshal landed a blow to Zell's mouth, spattering the floor with blood. She reached them as Zell readied another punch.

Grabbing his right wrist, she pushed it to the side as she moved to stand between them. "Easy," she said, pushing Zell back with a hand on his chest. Her voice was calm, though it overflowed with warning. "Break it up—"

"Marshal! No!" The squeak of sneakers on linoleum reverberated through Garden moments before Sally threw herself at the security officer, grabbing his arm. "Please, stop!"

"Sally, stay back," he said gruffly.

"I won't! I won't watch you kill each other like this." She buried her face in his chest, "Please..."

Zell's eyes narrowed and he shoved Eryn clear, clocking Marshal with a right hook and nearly hitting Sally. Blood spattered and Sally screamed as Eryn regained her footing. She took two hard steps toward Zell and threw her shoulder into his side, using all her body weight to knock him down.

Zell glared up at her from the cold tiled floor, blood trickling down his chin. "…the hell?!"

"That was the cheapest shot I've ever seen," she said, pointing at him. "Don't you dare get up." She pulled her cell phone from her belt and dialed. "Fujin. I need a security detail in the lobby. Now." With that, she slammed the phone closed and turned on Marshal. "What the _fuck_? Are you _insane_?"

Marshal didn't reply. He only stared ahead as he held Sally's sobbing form close. His right eye had swelled shut and the fresh gash on his cheek oozed blood.

"Hyne's ass," she muttered. She turned on Zell who had followed her orders to the letter. He had only moved enough to pull free a loose tooth. "Are you both losing your mind? We're what? Twenty-four hours from the most important Garden action in two years and you choose this time to have a pissing contest?" Eryn swore. Then she pointed harshly at Zell. "Get off the floor, soldier. You two are in the brig."

When she focused on Sally, she fought the urge to box the men's heads together. Instead, she pulled the distraught candidate away from Marshal with some difficulty. "Candidate Regal, come with me back to the infirmary please."

Zell straightened, wiping the blood from his mouth before gingerly rotating his jaw. Marshal didn't shift his focus from the lift, even when the doors opened and Fujin stepped out followed by a team of six security officers.

"You two better hope to all that's holy that Squall doesn't keep you in the brig for a month. If it was up to me, I would leave you to Fujin's brand of discipline." She motioned to Fujin. "Lieutenant, put these two in the brig to cool off. Candidate Regal, after you."

Sally limped along beside her, but her focus was still on SO Beita. "What's going to happen to them?"

"That's up to Squall. Me, personally? I hope they get pistol-whipped at the very least."

"It's my fault, Lt. Dwyre."

Eryn scoffed. "Strictly off the record, boys are completely stupid. They have no one to blame but themselves. But." She sent the candidate a sidelong glance. The girl looked pathetic. "But, out of curiosity, why is it quote-unquote your fault?"

"It's a long story that I would rather not talk about right now," she said.

If the story was half what Eryn suspected, she didn't blame the girl one bit. "Regardless, you won't be in my report to Squall as an offender. From where I stood, you tried to stop the knuckleheads."

"Will you please tell me what punishment they get?"

Eryn hesitated.

"Please? I want to know so that I can talk to Cmdr. Squall."

"Sally, do you really want to get yourself messed up in this? Like I said, boys are stupid. If you dive in, there's no telling what kind of stupidity will drop on you."

"You don't understand, Lt. Dwyre."

"Damn straight I don't understand. Marshal is Garden on a stick, Zell is as easy going as an old dog, and they try to kill each other?" Eryn scoffed. "The little shits are in a deep hole of their own making. Don't you dare throw them a rope." She held open the infirmary door, lifting a single finger when Sally vocalized a protest. "That's an order, Candidate. You keep your butt in this room for the next 48 hours. Clear?"

Sally lowered her gaze and offered a slight nod.

"Good. I will see about checking in with you later." Eryn strode from the infirmary wing, stopping at the end of the long hallway. The area surrounding the scene of the fight buzzed with students. They watched in wide-eyed amazement as the clean-up crew quickly mopped up the bloody floor.

"Aren't classes still in session?" she said firmly, stepping closer.

Curious or not, the students scattered. Eryn hesitantly made her way to the lift and pushed the third floor button, collecting the contents of her thrown folder while she waited. Sighing, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "What the hell am I going to tell Squall?" she muttered as she stepped onto the lift. Anything could get both Zell and Marshal suspended, and she needed them on the mission.

"Bad news," she reported as she entered Squall's office.

He frowned. "I already heard. I was just about to call you."

Eryn slumped into one of the visitor chairs in front of Squall's desk. "Unbelievable! I was on the elevator on my way to the cafeteria. I turn my head and the two of them are beating the hell out of each other in the middle of the lobby...." She sat up a bit. "The worst part of all? I think if I hadn't shown up they wouldn't have stopped. They would have kept at it until one of them was.... Well, let's just say I was in the right place at the right time."

Squall shook his head. "Why? Why would they do such a thing?" He noticed Eryn's squirm. "You have a theory then?"

"As juvenile as this is about to sound...I think It may have been over a girl."

It was Squall's turn to squirm. "Who? What girl?"

"Sally Regal, the poor thing. As if she doesn't have enough on her plate already. She helped me try to break them up, by the way."

Squall nodded. "Anything else?"

"That's all," she said, shaking her head. "Believe me, that's enough."

He nodded again as she stood from her chair, "I'll keep you posted."

On the lift, she frowned with arms crossed. "If it were anyone else, this whole incident would probably seem romantic."

***

Fujin escorted SO Marshal Beita and Lt. Cmdr. Zell Dincht into Squall's office in stern silence. Squall didn't lift his gaze from the papers on his desk.

"SIR."

Squall's brows furrowed and silence descended yet again. SO Beita and Lt. Cmdr. Dincht adjusted their stance. Both had bruised and bloody faces, a swollen eye, and torn uniforms stained with blood.

The commander motioned to Fujin without looking up.

She saluted and about-faced to focus her furious, one-eyed gaze on the men. "RAGE." She motioned toward SO Beita with a harsh motion. "DUTY: PROTECTION. IDIOT." Lt. Cmdr. Dincht smirked, drawing Fujin's glare. "BETRAYAL." His smirk disappeared. "FOOL."

Squall shoved the papers aside. "Zell, what the hell?" he asked, focusing on his friend. When he looked about to answer, Squall shook his head. "I don't want to know. Of all the stupid things you've done, this is the worst." When he focused on Marshal, the glare didn't lessen. "SO Beita, you're grounded, meaning you won't be going on the OP to extract the informant. And you." His attention snapped to Zell. "You won't be on the lead team. You will be back-up, by the extraction unit."

The men stiffened.

"When we get back, you're restricted to your dorms or your desk for a month and your pay will be docked. For the next 48 hours, or until the mission begins, you're both in the brig. Now get out of my sight." He motioned to Fujin, who saluted and escorted them out of his office.

***

Sunglasses hid the bright blue eyes of Trabia Garden's LFC Jaxon Crest as he stepped out of the air transport at Balamb. The light breeze ruffled his wavy dark brown hair as he waited for the cargo area to be unloaded so he could retrieve his duffle and weapon.

As he waited, Jaxon took a moment to appreciate the fresh air – and the warmth of the sunlight that happened, for once, to be coming down as sunlight should, instead of being reflected straight back up from the blanket of snow in Trabia. His mobile unit buzzed quietly in his pocket and the ID brought a smile.

"E, milady! Where are you?"

"Hey, Jax, did you get in all right? Any issues?" Her voice betrayed her frustration.

"I'm fine but you sound like someone hid your cigarettes…"

"Yeah, well, remember when I said I couldn't meet you? I still can't. And Dincht can't, so you're on your own, Bubbles."

The name caught him totally off guard. "Bubbles?"

" 'Bub' just seemed too rude. Anyway, gotta go. I'll see you in the AM. Go down to security to get your keys."

"Yes, ma'am."

After collecting his weapon case and travel duffle, Jaxon headed into the building after one last hesitation to relish the sunlight. Through his years with SeeD, Jaxon had only been to Balamb two times previous; once for his field exam when he was 17, and again for a special seminar regarding sword-smithing when he was 19. He'd always appreciated the wide open spaces, and this time was no different.

As he didn't know where the new security section was located, he made his way toward the directory. _What could be bothering E? She never sounds like that unless she's wishing death down from the heavens. I wonder if she's got herself a man._ Jaxon smirked. _Now that would be something. Might be the plug to her temper, too, especially if there's a discourse about careers and the military._ Jaxon almost laughed, his thoughts derailed when he collided with two candidates. Their eyes widened to the size of saucers at the sight of the security officer.

"Good morning, ladies," Jaxon remarked with one of his more charming smiles. He bent to help them retrieve their papers. There had been a veritable flurry of paper and two frightened squeaks at their meeting.

"S-s-sorry, sir."

"Not your fault, I wasn't watching where I was going." He handed the blond girl a stack of paper. "Could you direct me to the security office? I'm from Trabia."

Two arms instantly pointed to the central lift. "Down one floor, sir." They said in unison, causing Jaxon to chuckle.

"Okay, thanks. And sorry about that, I'll watch where I'm going from now on."

The girls nodded in unison before stepping to the side and disappearing down a side corridor.

"Strange kids," Jaxon muttered with an amused smile.

He sent another look toward the central lift, his breath catching in his throat as he glimpsed a woman climbing the steps. The attraction was so instant and strong he felt momentarily stunned. Her wavy blond hair cascaded over her shoulders and down to mid back, and her knee length skirt revealed finely toned, shapely legs. She paused mid-stair to look at a paper in her hand. When she looked up, her bright green eyes met Jaxon's stare.

The moment passed too fast. Jaxon couldn't move, breathe, or even think. Upon regaining control, he rushed toward the lift as the corridor flooded with chatty, excited candidates. The tide almost pushed him backwards, and making headway was difficult with his duffle and weapon case in hand. By the time he arrived at the top of the stairs, she had gone.

Jaxon released a frustrated breath and actually stamped his foot while he pushed the down call button. This trip wasn't for leisure, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a cup of coffee with an attractive woman. He could tell from her tailored burgundy and gold uniform she wasn't SeeD, the fact she couldn't blend in gave him a little hope of finding her again, but for the moment it had to be just that, hope.

***

Zackary Regal adjusted the shoulder strap of his briefcase as he frowned at the empty reception area just outside Balamb Garden. He glanced at his watch. "What the hell," he grumbled. It would be the first time SO Beita hadn't arrived at least five minutes prior to the agreed upon meeting time. "Damn it. I'm going to be late."

But with no escort onto Garden grounds, he could do nothing but watch the minutes click by. That is, unless he allowed himself to follow his notion of disobeying a direct order from the high command. Zack smirked and stepped forward, bringing his temporary security badge to the fore in preparation for those itching to land his butt in the brig.

He had only set one foot onto Garden grounds before First-Lt. Fujin Rokhart was seen striding his general direction. The stern expression seen at their numerous meetings beforehand had nothing on the expression she wore now. If he had to hazard a guess, he would have thought a favored comrade was involved.

"Something to your extreme displeasure, Lt. Rokhart?" he ventured at her approach.

Fujin didn't respond, although he tried never to expect one from her.

He followed her lead into Garden, doing his best to examine her mood from glances to her profile. "Lieutenant, if we were at a bar I would offer to buy you a drink in order to elicit the telling of the tale that has you breathing acid and fire. You would decline, likely with a slap to my face, but I would still risk the asking."

Fujin sent him a dark look.

Zack raised his hands. "I submit, Lieutenant. Tell SO Beita he owes me a drink."

Fujin scoffed, and that sound in conjunction with the rage in her expression had Zack wondering, again, what had set her off. In fact, it piqued his curiosity to the point of blocking out all other information as he entertained possible treks of point A to point D. His attention didn't refocus until Fujin escorted him into a meeting hall that easily out-sized his entire newsroom.

If someone had reported the meeting hall as being the location of all Garden press releases, not that they had many, he would not have been surprised. In fact, jealousy motivated him into the duty of plotting how to gain the use of the hall himself. _Does Garden need a press liaison?_ That would be a career-maker.

Cmdr. Squall Leonhart motioned to a seat nearest Lt. Eryn Dwyre. "Mr. Regal?"

"Commander. Thank you." Zack stowed his case in the seat next to him as he nodded to Eryn. As with Fujin, irritation tightened her features. "Lt. Dwyre."

She gave a curt nod, her eyebrows furrowed. "Regal."

He made himself comfortable and leaned toward her. "What seems to be the problem? Death would be frightened of you."

She lifted a hand, eyes closed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Don't even talk to me about it right now."

One of Zack's eyebrows rose as he sat back, his gaze raking the attendees. Quistis Trepe received a wink. She adjusted her spectacles but made no response. Seated three seats down from Eryn he noted one unfamiliar SeeD. The emblems on his uniform classified him as a high level tracker in addition to a security officer of a higher rank than SO Beita. The SeeD intercepted Zack's scrutiny and offered an easy-going smile and single nod. While surprised, Zack acknowledged the welcome with a nod of his own while making an internal note of a later investigation. Zell, seated on the other side of Fujin, looked to have been run over by a truck.

"Mr. Regal. Lt. Cmdr. Serra? Your report," Cmdr. Leonhart requested.

"Ah." Zack sent the CA operative a quick glance as he stood. "Might I have the honors, Lt. Cmdr.?" She motioned an acknowledgement as Zack steadied his briefcase on the central podium. "Excellent."

He retrieved a card from the pocket of his jeans and slipped it into the computer console in the podium. That activated the drop-down screen and the projector as the lights automatically dimmed. Zack chafed with jealousy at the high-tech options as he gathered up the wireless controller for the presentation software.

"Good day, Ladies and Gentlemen. For those of you who might not know my role here, my name is Zackary Regal. I am an investigative reporter with the Timber newsroom. Yes, I am the older brother to the charmer known as The Library Girl recovering in the infirmary," he acknowledged with a nod toward a raised hand.

The same unknown SeeD stood. "Nice to meet you. SFC Jaxon Crest. Trabia."

_Jaxon Crest…._ The name didn't ring any warning bells. "SFC Crest. Welcome aboard. Now." He activated the graphic display of the gathered information. "Here is the confirmed location of the informant who led one Candidate Seifer Almasy into an ambush. The location is accurate to the best of my source's information since this morning at about three hundred hours."

"Centra desert?"

Zack forwarded the display to a zoomed satellite image. "The one and only. From the images, here, you can see the bits and pieces of a ruin of some kind. Lt. Cmdr. Serra informs me it is a ruined castle in an historic district of Centra that is due for renewed archeological expeditions in the upcoming months. At the current time, it is abandoned. Or so the present residents would like us to believe, I'm sure."

"Who's behind the ambush?"

"That is the fun part," Zack said as he brought up a collection of documents to the overhead display. "Based on these financial records one could easily assume Galbadia and Trabia Gardens were forming a type of consortium in order to keep Mr. Almasy from joining the fold in a security sense of the word. However, when I dug deeper, I found a fun bit of information leading me to the conclusion the whole bit of excitement was orchestrated by – wait for it – a Purist faction."

"A Purist faction of what?"

Zack forwarded to an organizational chart breaking down the members of said faction. "A Purist faction against GF use."


	13. Mission Brief

_Thirteen ~ Mission: Brief ~_

"We haven't been using GFs since the war!"

Zack nodded. "The fact remains, however, that you used them. Because of that, the faction has taken it upon themselves to eradicate Garden one person at a time. Candidate Almasy was their first step in making that happen. This faction wants Garden to implode and the collateral damage matters little."

A steady murmur began to escalate as Cmdr. Squall Leonhart stood and made his way to the podium. "Thank you, Mr. Regal."

"My pleasure. Always wanted to perform a military briefing. Appreciate the opportunity." Zack handed over the controller and returned to his seat.

The Commander quieted the group with a simple look. "Team setups are as follows: Eryn, Quistis, Serra, Fujin, and myself are on the lead team with Jaxon as tracker. Zell, Xu, Raijin, Selphie are back-up."

Quistis stood. "Sir, request to be on the back-up team."

"Reason?"

"I enjoy being the last line of defense. In my experience with your operations, you exit the premises on a run."

The group chuckled, and even Squall's expression lightened to that of amusement. Zack could tell there were scores of inside jokes within these few team members.

"Request granted." He looked to the others named on the back-up team. "Who requests a transfer to the lead team?" When Zell raised his hand, he was pointedly ignored. "Selphie? Granted." Squall focused on Jaxon. "Jaxon, you and Fujin will be the initial scouting group. You will be required to report in once every ten minutes. You are absolutely forbidden to engage the enemy alone." He focused a hard stare on Fujin's averted gaze. "Is that clear?"

Jaxon and Fujin both nodded.

"The rest of the group will abide by Eryn's directive, which she is handing out now. You have one hour to prepare before deployment. Good luck."

Zack gathered his things while imagining the roar of the crowd at a future journalistic award ceremony.

***

After the meeting, most attendees went their separate ways to prepare themselves for the upcoming mission. Eryn snatched up her papers from the table; she had plans to meet up with Jaxon so the two could catch up. She filed away the last page and turned to leave, almost colliding with someone in the hallway.

"Oh— Zell, what are you still doing down here? Squall gave you an hour to prep. I suggest you use it." She moved past him and continued on her way to the lift.

"Wait a sec!" Zell called after her.

Eryn stopped and turned to face him, "What is it?"

"So, like, I'm sorry, for...you know...What happened," he started, "I was thinking, maybe you could talk to Squall. I feel like I should be with Jaxon, you know, on the lead team, since like, Seifer, you know..."

Eryn stared at him in disbelief, "Were you always this way? I mean, I remember you from the war. We met a few times."

Zell's face contorted with confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, we all played our parts back then. Any one of us could be walking around today acting as if the world owes us something. But no one does. Squall, Jaxon, Fujin. None of them act that way, so why do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"This... 'entitled' attitude you carry around, especially lately. I just don't get it."

"You know what? Screw you, Eryn. You're not my ma, or my girl, or even a friend. So you can just step off!"

Eryn shrugged. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Zell, I really am, but the teams remain as they are." She turned and continued toward the lift, mumbling, "What the hell does Sally see in that guy?" She punched the lobby-floor call button. It wouldn't be so bad if he were anything like he used to be, but like she had told him, the attitude had to go. "He needs to grow up, is what he needs to do, dickhead busting up my team and making my work harder than it has to be." She scoffed and strode toward the dorms. _I need a cigarette. No, damn it. I need a drink. A big, stiff one._

Outside Jaxon's assigned hostelling space, Eryn nervously glanced around before knocking. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. When the door opened and she saw Jaxon, the tears sprung to her eyes.

He smiled, but it vanished when he saw her. "E? Are you ok?"

She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug, tears rolling down her cheeks. Eryn hated the fact that she blubbered like an idiot, crying was against her personal policy, but seeing a friendly face had sent her control out the window.

Jaxon stood still for a long moment before wrapping his arms around her. "OK. Let's go inside," he finally said, ushering her inside.

Sniffling, Eryn wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her uniform jacket before taking a seat on the small couch. She watched him as he grabbed two glasses from the sparsely stocked kitchen.

"I'm sorry about that, Jax."

He set the glasses down on the table in front of them. "It's ok, E."

He dug into the duffel on the floor next to the couch, retrieving a bottle of brown liquid—whiskey. He unscrewed the cap and poured some into each glass. Eryn gulped down a large sip.

"Better?"

She nodded. "I'm really glad that you're here."

"Me, too. Now tell me what's got you so upset. I've never seen you this way before," he admitted, sipping his drink.

Eryn rolled her eyes. "It's been terrible here; this last week especially. Ever since we found the informant I've been working until all hours of the night. Two days ago I was up for almost 24 hours straight, and then that same day, I catch Zell and Marshal beating the shit out of each other in the middle of the lobby. That's why he couldn't meet you yesterday, and why Marshal isn't going tomorrow...They're both in the damn brig."

"Wow. Marshal and Zell? What the hell is going on around here?"

"Would you believe that spiky-headed idiot had the nerve to actually ask me if I would talk to Squall about getting him back on the lead team?" Eryn shook her head. "The worst part of all? Just now Zell basically said I was nothing to him and that I needed to back off when I told him he had a serious attitude problem." She sighed. "He's probably right. Just me sticking my nose where it doesn't belong again. I always do that."

"You don't mince words, E," Jaxon started. Eryn shot him a glare. He held up his hands in defense. "It isn't a bad thing. Zell's been riding the 'I saved the world' wave for what? Almost three years now?" He fingered his glass before taking a thoughtful sip. "There comes a time when you have to move on, grow up." He put his hand on her shoulder. "You have way more tact than you think. You're hurting right now because Zell doesn't."

"Tell that to him, the punk," she grumbled. She downed the last of her drink and offered him the glass. "Thanks, Jax. I needed that. Unfortunately I can't get shit-faced with you today. Saving a comrade and all."

Jaxon smirked. "Yeah. Damn those comrades in arms, eh?"

Eryn's expression softened into a smile, which Jaxon returned. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me, too."

***

They had been surprisingly accepting.

The commander hadn't asked for proof of her claim. He had accepted the offered blood-work, allowing her to report to the doctor with her findings for corroboration with current medical records. When said tests had been returned positive, he had simply smiled and shook her hand.

Serra lowered her gaze to the soft white glow held in her palm. With a frown, she released the light to vanish into a puff of smoke and fisted her hand. They had been surprisingly accepting, hinting at the chaos that would meet her at the end of this particular tunnel.

***

"So, my sister is worth suspension and 24 hours in the brig." SO Beita sent Zack a sidelong look. The kid looked like hell, reminding him of a certain other kid with a similar bruised and bloody appearance.

"Sir," SO Beita greeted. He didn't stand to his feet. Nor did he bother extending his glance of the TV reporter. Instead, he lowered his blank gaze to the cement underfoot.

Zack performed a cursory examination of the glass of the door to the confinement cell, shifting his scrutiny toward the high ceilings of the security basement to see about the possibility of helping the kid out. "Bullet-proof. Ironic," he mumbled. He resigned himself to a muffled conversation as he focused on SO Beita's somber profile. "When were you going to tell me? After all we've meant to each other." _And why is it that I don't want to feed this particular SeeD to the nearest elevator chute?_

"There was nothing to tell, sir. She doesn't remember."

_That_ had to be hell. "That didn't prevent you from being the truck that ran into Dincht's face, which makes me think—"

"Think what you want, sir." SO Beita fixed Zack with a hard stare. "I don't answer to you."

Zack regarded the SeeD for a moment before he inclined his head. "In all honesty, I wouldn't expect that of you. You're too similar to the ass standing in front of you. In fact, that might be why I don't mind the idea of you being involved with my sister. Dincht on the other hand…."

The security officer allowed a smirk.

"How much does she not remember?"

The smirk vanished. "That's none of your business, sir."

"Humor me."

"I don't think so, sir." SO Beita once again lowered his focus to the cement floor. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather serve my time alone."

"Without even an explanation as to why Dincht received the business end of your fist? Sally's naïve and so I doubt her taste in men, but Zell Dincht didn't strike me as the kind to—"

"Dincht can go to hell," was all he said.

Zack considered the young man in thoughtful silence. The attitude was surprising, considering Garden's tendency toward extreme loyalty. Of course he could understand coming to the rescue of his sister, which is what those around Garden had reported, but between friends? Zack set the mystery aside with some difficulty, his brain scrolling through the known facts of the kid with slow deliberateness. Something in SO Marshal Beita's past ingrained him with an almost compulsive need to protect those emotionally connected with him. Of late he hadn't had the free time to spare for extra mysteries, but now that the troops had been deployed….

"Before I go, soldier, answer me one question."

"No promises, sir."

"Have you ever considered life outside of Garden?"

That grabbed the security officer's attention like a bolt from a crossbow. "Sir?"

"A job. A career. Something that doesn't involve uniforms and carrying a military issued weapon."

"The Ladies are mine, sir."

"Point taken: You have a frightening attachment to guns. That aside… have you considered life outside these gates?" _How old was he when he joined? Seventeen?_

SO Beita's gaze narrowed. "No, sir."

"Not once?" Zack pressed, incredulous.

"Every soldier wonders at least one time in his career, sir. When that time comes, he or she deals with it one way or the other."

"Has your time come yet?"

SO Beita regarded Zack for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. "No," he admitted slowly.

"Not even today?"

He clenched his jaw. "No."

"Hm. Interesting." Zack tapped a finger to his chin as he held the security officer's gaze. Then he gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Think on it while you're in here, soldier."

"Think on what, sir?"

"Whether or not you would consider working for me."

The man blinked. "Sir, why would I consider working for a TV reporter?"

"Station owner," Zack corrected in an absent tone. "As an employee, preferably as a Garden Network press liaison, you would have access to informants and other such nonsense."

"I don't see the draw."

Zack smirked. "Touché. Regardless, think about my offer as you stew in this little box. I'm interested to see what you come up with. I'll check in on you later."

Irritation sparked in the man's eyes, but he remained silent. Zack gave a nod and turned toward the exit. The kid was good at his job, and if Zack was serious about delving deeper into researching conspiracy theories he would need someone to keep his hide intact. Who better qualified than a Garden Security Officer who had a history of military academy training?

"I believe you might just be onto something," he congratulated himself. At the same time, he wondered if he could make the last train to Timber. It would give him just enough time to delve into researching the death of Katie Beita before the last news broadcast of the evening.

***

"_Every soldier wonders at least one time in his career, sir. When that time comes, he or she deals with it one way or the other."_

"_Has your time come yet?"_

Marshal stared down at his scuffed shoes and fisted his hands. "No," he said again. He had put that question out of his mind before he signed the Garden contract. The minute he dedicated himself to finding Katie's killer he flushed all thoughts of taking a different road. He dropped out of class, quit his job, and signed the contract with Garden for that one purpose.

Then he met Sally Regal.

The first time he shared a study group with her at Balamb he knew there was something different to her. Then he found out she had a family, unlike almost everyone else enrolled. Her biggest challenge had been shyness, not anger management or post-traumatic stress disorder or abuse. Sally had something to live for outside of the Garden collective. She had something to smile about.

Soon after his transfer to Galbadia he had called the Balamb library to have a book transferred. She had greeted him with enthusiasm and laughter, and that sound had sent him over the top. He fought off the attraction for months after that, using his sister's picture and the broken pendant they had found on her body as his primary motivator. Of course there was also the fact that everyone knew she crushed on Zell, and Marshal wasn't one to be second.

But once a person met Sally Regal there was no easy way to forget her.

She never forgot him, either. Holidays, birthdays, promotions… each time he succeeded in wrestling her from his mind and re-gaining focus, she sent a card or gift for some supposed monumental event. She would even transfer books with a note explaining that she remembered he was doing some type of research, or writing this paper, or preparing for this mission….

He still remembered the day she hand-delivered a top secret folder requested from Cid, although he couldn't now remember what it was all about. Somehow she convinced him to give her a tour of Galbadia Garden with only a simple request. Even more surprising was when he heard himself invite her to lunch afterward.

When he offered to fly her back to Balamb in an aerial, she declined. _"I'm off to Timber to spend time with my parents. Even Zack!"_ she said, laughing. The next words out of his mouth: _"I'll drive you."_ It was the first time he had mentally paid attention to anything around him, outside the end goal of retaliation.

After that drive to Timber he knew there would be no going back to the loner SeeD bent on avenging his murdered sister above all else. His focus continued to be drawn from Katie to Sally. At one point he told Sally that she reminded him of his sister. Her brown eyes lit up like stars. _"I don't have a sister,"_ she told him in that cheery tone so unlike anything he had heard before or since. But then her eyes had darkened and she nibbled at her lower lip before timidly asking, _"Would you… would you mind telling me about her?"_

They sat up all night in the cafeteria talking about Katie over hot cups of coffee and cocoa.

Where had Zell Dincht been? Off with his Sorceress slaying buddies.

Marshal scoffed and bolted to his feet. He stalked to the glass door of the cell and leaned against it to stare out into the darkened corridor with a blank gaze, arms crossed. _"As an employee, preferably as a Garden Network press liaison, you would have access to informants and other such nonsense."_ It was an opportunity of a lifetime, but the timing of it couldn't be worse. Sally finally began to see beyond Zell Dincht. In fact, Marshal knew that when she looked at him she saw 'Mars.' Maybe one day she would remember their last week together? Would she if he left?

But pass up Garden Network Press Liaison? Pass on the informants, the information network, the way to find the ones responsible for Katie's murder? Marshal pulled a pendant and chain from his left trouser pocket, opening the locket to reveal the smiling faces of the two women that meant the most in his life—

He snapped the locket closed and fisted his hand around it, pressing his knuckles against his forehead. When Katie died he vowed to find the ones responsible. Today was not the day to start breaking promises.

***

I made my way to the rehab room and the jet-stream tub in the corner, Mr. Huggles (the Tonberry) in one hand and Bonny in the other. My back ached and the doctor recommended soaking for at least 30 minutes to loosen the muscles. I stared at the bubbling surface of the water with a blank gaze as the temperature rose to the set degree. When the degree was reached, I set Mr. Huggles and Bonny a safe distance away and shed my terry robe. Stepping into the heated water, I settled myself into the corner and just stared at the playful bubbles, my hands clasped in my lap.

The timer dinged and I twitched, shifting my focus to the clock behind me—my gaze focused on my reflection and I gasped, my cheeks going ashen. I touched my shoulder with tentative motions, my fingertips tracing the scar spanning the top of my shoulder to my side in the shape of a giant maw. My vision blurred and I whimpered as I jerked my hand away. Then I covered my face and sobbed.

_(Chapter 14 Soon To Come)_


	14. Mission Go

Fourteen ~ Mission: Go ~

"We know you're in there, soldier!"

Seifer rolled, his back slamming against the crumbled stone wall. Fragments stung his face as the machine gun fire ricocheted. "Shit," he hissed. What he wouldn't have given for at least a knife.

"Give up now and we won't kill you."

"Go to hell!" He scrambled two yards to the east and the next ruined wall. A barrage of gun-fire followed in his wake. "You better kill me, ass holes, because you're dead!"

Seifer continued to progress from ruined wall, down crumbling stairs, and over felled columns trailed by a shower of bullets and the clamor of booted feet giving chase. Deeper into the ruins he ran, not caring that with each step the darkness thickened and his eyes strained to make out the next safest step. Something drew him deeper and he couldn't help but obey.

Jaxon stowed his gear and plopped next to Eryn. "Is it just me, or is the air around here electric?"

Eryn shifted her glare from Zell at the far end of the transport. "Huh? Oh. Electric. Right. You know, I'd like to 'electric' him all the way to—"

"E."

"What?"

Jaxon shook his head. "Never mind." When Eryn once more focused an angry stare on the blond, Jaxon stood. "Let me talk to him."

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Whatev. He won't listen, or hear for that matter. He's so damned sure that he's got the rights to a sweet life…." The rest was lost to a collection of grumbles.

Chuckling, Jaxon made his way to the space next to Zell with an acknowledging nod to Fujin on his other side. "Hey, Zell. I didn't get the opportunity to talk to you after the meeting. How are you?"

Zell didn't lift his gaze from his hands resting on his knees as he offered a grunt in response.

"Ah." Jaxon continued to regard his friend, expression thoughtful. He finally lifted his arms in a shrug. "I'm at a loss, buddy. I heard what went on and, well, fighting in the halls? With Marshal?"

"He threw a punch. I threw back."

"And? Come on. You and Marshal have been chums from the first, and I know you're loyal to that. What—"

Zell's head jerked up. "Just step off from me, Dude."

"You say that to all the people trying to help you?"

His brows furrowed. "You don't want to help me, Jax. You're just all in my face because Eryn went off and blamed me for everything."

"Eryn doesn't lay blame where it isn't warranted, Zell. You know that. She holds you to your attitude and your actions. Period." Jaxon sent Eryn a quick glance, but she continued her study of the mission scope. "Zell." He focused an intense gaze on the scrapper, "Zell, you've been my friend for many a year. I'm trying to be loyal to that here, and you're making it difficult. If you want help from me, try opening a line of communication and I'll see what I can do. Telling me to 'step off' won't achieve anything."

Zell grumbled as he lowered his focus back to his fisted hands. "It sounds dumb."

"Everything sounds dumb to someone at some point in time. Try me."

Another grumble, a reddening of ears, and then Zell mumbled, "He moved in on my girl."

"I'm sorry, pardon?"

"Marshal. He was moving in on my girl." Zell sent Jaxon a sidelong glance.

Jaxon's face contorted into an expression of shocked disbelief. "Marshal? Did he _know_ she was your girl? Did you tell him so he could correct himself?"

"Everyone knows she was my…." Zell clenched his jaw and looked away. "Everyone knows, Dude. Forever."

"Enlighten me, then. Who is she?"

"The Library Girl. Sally."

Jaxon sat back and reviewed his repository of information regarding Sally and Zell. "The only thing I heard was that she had a crush on you. You never reciprocated or showed an interest."

"So?"

"_So_? Women are not required to pine away their days waiting for their 'first choice' to get their heads out of their butts." Jaxon leaned away from the glare aimed his direction. "Look, you can't expect a girl to telepathically know you've suddenly decided she's an object of your attention."

"I gave her a stuffed Tonberry doll. It had a basket of flowers and a little cactuar."

Something tugged at Jaxon's memory. "Oh, it must look a lot like the one Selphie bought some days ago. I was on the phone with her about her Trabia security clearance when she started squealing about this stuffed Tonberry and its little cactuar. I nearly lost my hearing." He paused to retrieve the rest of the memory. "In fact, she said she thought it would be great for Sally."

Zell scowled at the pointed look from his friend and, instead of saying anything, just crossed his arms and glowered at the floor.

"Sorry, man, fighting in the halls is not cool. Sally doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who thinks it neat to have two knuckleheads fighting over her – and it doesn't matter who started the brawl, either. She also doesn't seem the type to think someone who felt 'entitled' to her affections is cool." Jaxon sent Zell a pointed scrutiny. "Zell, if your attitude doesn't change, I can almost guarantee you'll have no chance with her – ever." He stood to his feet, leaning down in order to keep his next commentary somewhat private. "Oh, and if any of the women I've ever known had caught me giving them a gift I'd borrowed from a friend… well, let's just say I probably wouldn't be alive today."

Hoping something had gotten through, Jaxon came to his full 6'4" height and promptly forgot the 5' 10" clearance of the ceiling. He hit the hull of the transport with a resounding thud and took a couple of staggering steps backwards before having to quickly sit.

"Are you all right, Lieutenant?"

The voice of the Lieutenant Commander set something afire in his chest. "I will be in a minute." He looked up and gave the officer from the Centra Agency a weak smile. Her eyes settled on his and she returned the smile warmly. Absently, he rubbed his head. "I would swear I've met you."

"Not much of a pick-up line, Lieutenant." if she'd been wearing glasses, she would have peered over them at him.

"I don't do pick-up lines within 30 minutes of a mission."

She continued to smile at him, her expression softening. "Does it still hurt?"

The question made him look up at his hand that continued to rub absently. "I do it all the time. You'd think I'd be used to it by now."

"You're very tall. This world wasn't built for people like you," she commented. She reached up to gently remove his hand from his head and instead placed her own hand there. It was warm and he wasn't sure where the tingling came from, but the pain eased quickly.

"Thank you," he said in a soft tone. It didn't matter that the whole transport probably watched the exchange – he very badly wanted to kiss her.

"You're welcome, Lieutenant."

"Jaxon, or Jax, depending on what makes you comfortable."

"OK, Jax." She smiled again and blinked a few times before clearing her throat. "Would you like to get some coffee sometime?"

He grinned. "As soon as possible."

A ripping sound from the back tore his attention from the captivating woman next to him. Eryn's expression promised death and destruction to mere mortals and she violently tore her papers into small pieces.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go avert a disaster back there. " He stood – ducking this time. "I'll hold you to that coffee."

"I won't forget, Jaxon."

The look in her eyes and the sound of her voice made his knees weak and he had to consciously order his feet to move away. When he finally arrived at his original seat next to Eryn, Jaxon scooped up the shreds of mission brief she had strewn about his chair.

"Is she the one you saw yesterday?" Eryn asked, lifting her chin toward the front of the transport. Her voice wasn't quite as stormy as her expression.

Jaxon released a breath he hadn't realized he held. "Yes, that's her."

Despite her otherwise sour mood, Eryn chuckled. "You really can pick 'em."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Have you looked at her?"

"A few times, yes. I have."

"You do realize who she is, don't you, Mr. Detail-Oriented-to-an-Anal-Retentive-Fault?"

He shrugged, not having a clue where she tried to lead him. "An officer from an organization in Centra?"

Eryn shook her head in disbelief. "Take the blinders off, Jax. Squirt some eye drops in there and blink a few times." She grabbed his jaw and turned him to face Serra's direction. "Who does she look like?"

The object of his focus continued to work on her computer with studious attention and didn't notice the intensified scrutiny. She chewed on a lip in contemplation. Then, suddenly, she scowled. Jaxon's jaw dropped. "No way!" A simple coffee date just became very complicated.

Eryn nodded, almost apologetically. "Yes. Way."

Jaxon's heart sunk to his feet. "She's his sister?"

"Twin sister."

He slumped back into his seat and covered his face with a hand. "There is no particular four letter word that will be enough to express my surprise," he muttered.

"I could provide a list for you to choose from…."

"I know you could." He crossed his arms in his lap. "How could I have missed this?"

"I know you well enough to be able to say with all certainty – you saw her eyes and her legs and then turned off your brain."

"Crap. I suck! How could I…."

Eryn put a hand on his shoulder. "Jax, despite your excellence at your job and your nit-picky attention to detail, you are vulnerable to your fundamental flaw."

He raised an eyebrow, his expression urging her to continue.

"You. Are. A ma-a-a-a-a-n."

He gave Eryn a gentle shove while looking ahead toward Serra. She caught his gaze and sent back a smile that seemed to make her eyes sparkle and made him damn grateful that he _was_ a man.

Seifer ducked around the corner of crumbling mortar and stone, his shoulders hunched against the onslaught of gunfire. He could barely see the flagstone corridor ahead of him. "Shit." A stone fragment stung his cheek, motivating a backwards run and a vicious return spray of gunfire. One of his pursuers sprawled forward, rolling several feet before sliding to a halt and tripping the son of a bitch that followed. "You like that, assholes? Come and get some!"

The pocket of his tattered trench clanked with the two remaining clips of ammunition. That flared a spark of anger; he knew he would run out before the punks were all dead. _Then I'll just need to do it the old fashioned way._ A gunblade would have been a nice addition to the fun. Hell. A nice fire spell would have been good. "Light the god damned way," he grumbled between puffs.

Diving into a corridor of mostly rubble and skeletons, he pressed himself tight against the wall and waited. The heavy sound of booted feet followed not long after. He gripped the machine gun, counting in his head the number of men and how soon they would get to—Two men passed at a run. Seifer smashed the next man in the face, the blood from his broken nose spurting a good two feet. His howl of pain halted the others. Firing from the hip, Seifer didn't give them the chance to see his face. They fell forward, blood covering the flagstones beneath them.

He snatched up the handgun and the extra ammunition, tucking them into the belt of his slacks or the pockets of his trench. The flashlight was useless. He swore and then headed blindly down the corridors again, following the pull in the base of his brain. It was like a voice spoke to him. He couldn't understand what it said, or who they were, or why he did what it said. He just couldn't keep himself from going deeper into the ruined castle – or whatever the hell it was – all the while hoping he would find a place to make a stand at the end.

Bounding over a fallen column, he only just kept himself from careening into a rotted wooden door. The bauble almost sent him head over heels down the stairs on the other side of the door. He caught himself and continued down in a more controlled fashion. What little light there was faded quickly, and there wasn't much more his eyes could do to adjust. His hold on the machine gun tightened as he wished, again, that he could make fire. But junctions were forbidden now… at least for SeeD. _One hell of an irony,_ he mused.

The footsteps of his pursuers stopped; the shouts and curses following hinted they had lost his trail. He ducked behind another wooden door, this one still clinging to its iron hinges, and pushed it closed. Leaning back against it, he steadied his breathing as his narrowed gaze took in his surroundings. He had found a smaller room than what he would have liked, and one wall looked as if it would tumble at the merest breath. _Might come in handy._ The thought of smashing one of the sons of bitches under a ton of rubble gave him a reason to smirk.

"First things first," he grumbled. He slung the machine gun behind his back and hurried forward, searching the rubble for anything he could use as a light or torch. Unfortunately, he couldn't even find a bit of dried wood in the small fireplace.

Seifer cursed as he swiped a shaky hand through his hair—A warm breath on his neck spun him so that he almost lost his footing. But he was still alone in the room, the voice in his head continuing to urge him deeper into the castle.

"Leave me the hell alone," he hissed. "Damn ghosts…."

But there remained a heavy presence. It was as if the owner of the voice had a grip of his trenchcoat lapels and pulled him toward the crumbling wall. In fact, his left foot scuffed forward, leaving him staring down at it in horror.

"What the hell?" He stepped back until he came up short against the door, the feeling of being pulled toward the wall returning with the voice in his head. Fisting his hands to control his smoldering temper, he told the voice to go to hell and turned to open the door, bringing his machine gun up as he continued his search for a way out. "If puberty boy or chicken-wuss don't get here soon…."

The voice wouldn't be ignored, and Seifer began to lose control of the temper that roared in the back of his mind. Pulling and pushing; ordering him this way and that; up these stairs and around that corner… the voice was relentless. He followed, just as he had when Sorceress Edea had pulled his strings like a marionette—Seifer hissed and ground to a halt, his body leaning forward with the effort to resist the voice and the pull.

The warm breath at his neck was followed by a firm push. He braced himself, the rage of his temper escalating to a din in his ear that had him seeing red. In fact, he felt as if his entire body was ablaze.

"Damn ghost," he growled. He sent a quick glance over his shoulder to the dark corridor before he hurried forward. "Just get the hell off me."

He was fed up with crazies and nut cases, ghosts and GFs and all the other damned ludicrous things people did to one up the other clown. Give him a gunblade and he was fine. What the hell did he need all the other shit for—Seifer grabbed the wall on his left to stop himself, pulling back to stare with wide eyes down the side corridor at the shimmering figure that stood there. Blonde-green hair cascaded down her back, almost to the floor, and her body was ablaze with white fire.

The voice became a frenzy of whispers, pressing and pulling as its tone escalated in intensity and insistence. The voice silenced, however, when the creature with the blonde-green hair beckoned to him, her eyes blazing. Then a surge of power overcame him from the inside out, exploding in his mind—and everything went white.

Serra considered herself studious.

There was little challenge for her to pay attention during mission briefings and overviews. However, as Eryn Dwyre made her way to the front of the three teams, Serra found it increasingly difficult to focus her attention on the detailed maps and mission plans. Even as she lowered her drifting attention to the handout binder held in her white-fingered grip, her surroundings almost seemed to phase in and out of... focus.

Instead, she was left with a two-toned whine in the back of her mind that balanced between being heard and being felt. To her already ragged nerves it was much like a jagged piece of metal scraping on a chalk board.

In an attempt to firm her focus, Serra raised her hand.

"Yes?" Lt. Commander Dwyre asked in a sharp tone.

"I assume that I will not be allowed to accompany Lieutenant Crest?" She noticed, barely, that he was not at the briefing.

"Correct. He has already ventured out on his assignment. You will be on the first team." Eryn consulted her notes. "I believe team assignments were already discussed in the mission briefing this morning."

Serra ground her teeth to keep herself from flinching, both from pain of the whine's rising pitch and from embarrassment of not recalling that fact. She nodded and lowered her focus yet again to the handout binder.

The hard stare from Lt. Commander Dwyre continued for a few brief moments before Eryn called everyone's attention to the next page of the handout and continued with her overview. Any and all questions asked fell to the wayside of the whine that escalated into a throbbing roar in the center of Serra's brain.

With a cringe, Serra raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, not noticing her simultaneous action of creating a white ball in the palm of her hand roughly the size of a large marble. She fisted her hand, enclosing the marble of light in a white-knuckled grasp as she wrestled with the pain and the sudden short bursts of noise and voices—

Serra bolted to her feet, voicing a murmured apology and stepping quickly away from the team. She didn't notice Eryn's attentive focus as she continued her overview, or Commander Squall follow after her. All she heard was the noise of two voices deep in her mind and the explosive array of images of a young woman. Even with her eyes open the woman was there. Her blonde-green hair flowing in soft waves to her feet. Her stature erect and intense. Her slim form engulfed with white fire—

The woman faced Serra, her eyes ablaze with white fire... and a look of surprise. Then the woman smiled and lifted an arm, beckoning Serra forward while uttering a single word: "Come."

The word pounded in Serra's mind, bringing with it a wave of power that Serra had to grapple with in order to keep it from exploding out of control. She panted with the effort, her hands pressed to each side of her head as she ran blindly forward. She didn't hear the voices behind her calling for her to stop. All she heard and saw was the young woman with an eternity of age in the white fire of her eyes.

The woman seemed familiar at the same time she was strange and different. But she was safe and Serra knew she had to go to her. Knew that a life hung in the balance.

A hand gripped her arm, but a pound of outward power loosed it and propelled Serra forward. Serra couldn't comprehend how long she ran. All she saw was the form of the woman, her hand outstretched, and her eyes smiling.

Power continued to flow from those eyes into Serra, pressing at her brain and burning through her body with the effort to keep it in check. All those years of training to control her abilities.... Her confidence soared. I can do this! I can do this! It was the first time in her life that she experienced clarity in her purpose, in the purpose of her abilities, and in the purpose behind her existence.

The woman. She was the key.

Serra reached out, desperate to grasp the outstretched hand and pull the answer to her. The woman vanished and Serra stumbled to a halt, blinking into the darkness. She summoned a ball of white with a simple thought and gazed around her in confusion at the dim and cobweb infested hallways of a ruined castle— booted footsteps and angry shouts and curses sounded behind her. Serra's heart pounded in her chest, her new found power surging like a wave of water through her veins and in her ears.

_Danger! Hurry!_

Serra scurried forward, stumbling over the debris of fallen walls of brick and wood girders. Panic battled with her confidence and calm but she pressed forward, following the press to turn down this hallway and that one toward the end she didn't see.

The angry voices continued behind her, gaining with each hesitant step and turn. Serra tried to shut them out, but failed. Halting at a crossroads, she ignored her trembling fingers, focusing instead on her instincts and controlling the power that continued to surge and wane and surge again through her body—

Bullets sprayed the ground and wall behind her and she dove forward, releasing the white ball of light and tripping over something lying prone in the darkness. She rubbed at her forehead and the fresh bump before calling again the white ball of light and shining it into the darkness... to reveal the scarred face of Seifer Almasy.

Serra choked on a sob and clutched him with her free hand, her eyes frantic in searching his pale face for signs of life. He moaned and a splutter of flame shot out from his palm to shatter bits of brick from the ceiling above them. She threw herself over him, doing her best to protect him from the falling debris while her frantic mind grappled with any way of escape.

But when she felt the burning muzzle of a machine gun pressed against her back, panic jerked free her control of the waves of power and a ball of white roared outward, turning everything living to ash... and all went black.


	15. Mission Extraction

Fifteen ~Mission: Extraction~

There came a flash of white and then the ground rumbled beneath Jaxon's feet, nearly sending him on his rear-end before he could steady himself. "Whoa. That can't be good." He took stock of his surroundings, judging the direction of the blast – or whatever it was – by the change in the air and the smell of something burning on the breeze. He set off at a quick trot. "Did they start the fun without me?"

The sounds of Eryn barking orders on the run told otherwise.

Jaxon came to a halt near a crumbled bit of wall. Leaning casually against it, he bided his time until Eryn, Squall, Fujin, and Selphie converged on his position. They even brought Xu and Raijin as backup. _Good little soldier, Mr. Commander, Sir,_ Jaxon thought to himself. "I'll take the obvious 'what the hell' expressions as proof that you had nothing to do with what happened."

"What _did_ happen?" Eryn asked, the grip on her weapons adjusted in readiness.

"As near as I can figure someone made a boom."

Eryn and Fujin both cast him a glance of impending doom and destruction.

He cleared his throat and straightened. "Only thing is, I do believe the explosion was caused by magic."

Squall stepped forward, looking beyond Jaxon to the ruins. "GF?"

"I don't believe so. The air felt different."

"How can you do magic without a GF?" Selphie asked.

"That is a good question." Jaxon sent Squall a glance as he continued his scrutiny of the ruins. "If you want the answer, we'll need to venture forth." He sent Eryn an inquisitive look. "Where's our guest from the Centra Intelligence Agency? Isn't she on our lead team?"

Eryn pressed her lips into a tight, white line. "She came this way a few minutes before the white light."

Jaxon balled his hands into fists until his hands hurt. "Pardon? Clarify 'came this way.' "

"She bolted. Like Ifrit himself was on her heels." Eryn didn't hold Jaxon's pained gaze.

"Is this on the map?" Squall's intense expression grabbed Jaxon back from the sudden mad desire to charge into the ruins. "This doesn't look familiar to me."

"It isn't on any map that I have, no. E, can you get a screenshot from the closest satellite?"

"No uplink." Eryn waved her handheld in an irritated arcing motion. "Some high-level interference in this place, that's for damn sure."

"Interesting." Jaxon grappled with his calm to focus on his task at hand. Then he stepped toward the collection of ruined walls. Shell casings littered the ground and the amount of booted footprints told of a skirmish leading into the gaping maw of a castle-like building that seemed to be stuck midway above and below ground. "Everyone ready for an adventure? Whoever was victim, or instigator, of the white magic went thisaway. And believe me when I say there are a lot of them. At least two squads."

"And us without a blessed GF between us," Eryn grumbled. She swore.

Jaxon's unease prevented amusement. The aroma of powerful magic nearly singed his nose hairs. But, as he had told the others, it didn't smell nor feel the same as the intensity of a GF. GFs gave the impression of a blanket, somewhat smothering or stifling. This was more like… an approaching forest fire or lightning storm as there was an electricity-type feeling to the air. As if even that could… implode and explode at the same time at any given moment.

But even that didn't really explain things.

Eryn and the others switched on the lamps strapped to their wrists and aimed them into the growing darkness. Squall had Griever drawn and ready.

"Where are all the bodies, you know?" Raijin whispered.

Jaxon crouched and gingerly touched a pile of fine dirt… though it felt more like soot or ash. "Hm. Incinerated, apparently."

Selphie muffled a complaintive squeal while Eryn and Raijin both cursed. Jaxon dusted his finger off on his trousers and led them forward again. "Let's all hope and pray that the boom doesn't decide to come around again, shall we?"

"If the occupants are 'incinerated', Jaxon, does that mean...?"

Jaxon shrugged without looking at the Garden Commander. He couldn't say "That's exactly what it could mean." It didn't matter if it was the truth or not. That Seifer Almasy and his beautiful twin sister were possibly two piles of ash were facts he didn't want to face at the moment. "We don't know that all occupants suffered the same end. In fact, I don't know for a fact that the dust back there is the remnants of a person."

"You're the best," Squall reminded. "I'll take what you have to say at face value."

Jaxon cringed. "This is the one time I don't care for being the best, Sir."

"Agreed. They could be fine. Stranger things have happened."

"I'll take that, Sir. Thank you." Jaxon halted and gestured to the others. "Now, if you could take a few paces back, I have a job to do and something just changed."

Squall did as ordered – the fact he was able to order the Garden Commander around still weirded Jaxon out. He crouched and pressed his fingertips on the brick flooring. "Boots at a run. More than one pair." He closed his eyes to focus on the sounds. "Two pair don't have the smoothest gait. May be injured. Don't believe they are ours, though."

"Are they headed our direction?"

"I don't believe so, no. It's hard to tell in a ruin like this. Bricks tend to reverberate and throw me off." Jaxon stood and continued forward in cautious attention. "Try and be as silent as possible. Tread as soft as you can. I'll see about getting us around them."

Eryn's grumble about not being a rabbit caused a smirk.

The world didn't exist outside the darkness and pain.

There was heat and fire. There were conflicting voices. There was weight pressing down on his chest. He couldn't lift his arms. Couldn't even open his eyes for the incessant pounding. Even a curse required too much effort through the sludge in his mind.

_Rest._

A voice he seemed to remember. As if from a dream. A very long dream filled with running and ghosts and gunfire and flaming bodies that vanished into nothing— the weight was suddenly lifted and he groaned as the agony exploded in his head and throughout his body...

…and all went black.

Jaxon lifted Serra's limp body from the rubble, dusting the fragments of dirt and stone from her face.

"Is she alive?" Eryn asked, her voice hushed. The pallor of the woman's cheeks made her uneasy.

The only response was a grunt as he stood, lifting her into his arms and then bolting down the hallway toward the exit. Eryn gaped after him a moment before growling orders for Xu and Raijin to offer escort.

The handheld at her hip beeped and buzzed a demand for attention. "Dwyre. Go."

"I took it upon myself to order a medical transport," Quistis reported in her usual businesslike fashion. "It should be here in five."

"Good because Jaxon just beat Hyne's hell out of here with Serra. Not sure if she's alive or dead, but she's headed your way."

"Roger that. Aggressors?"

"Not yet, but Jaxon—" Eryn's gaze fell upon the heap of gray and brown revealed by Serra's removal. "Gotta go. Over and out." She slammed the handheld to her belt clip. A closer scrutiny revealed the heap as another body. He was thin and his clothes looked like they hadn't fit him for some time. His face, however, was still recognizable despite everything he had endured: Seifer Almasy. Eryn's throat constricted at the intensity of her relief. _At last._

"Commander!" she called.

Squall's attention shifted to his red-headed lieutenant and the tattered grey lump beside her. He strode over and knelt beside them, his eyes widening at the sight of his lost advisory. "I'll be damned," he said, his face breaking out into a smirk, "I knew the jackass was alive."

Their reunion was short-lived.

Gunfire danced around them. Squall jumped to his feet, Griever already drawn as he barked at Eryn. "Get Seifer out of here!" he shouted between bursts of gunfire.

She jumped to her feet, grabbing Seifer forcibly by the arms and standing him upright long enough to toss his weight across her shoulders. Beaten and starved for months, Seifer still out-weighed her enough to make her doubt her instinctual reaction to her training. The extra mass slowed her progress, but she was still able to hot-foot it down the corridors while doing her best to not jar the man. There was no way for her to know how many injuries he had incurred while in the torturous care of the Purists.

"You're not gonna die on me today, Seifer Almasy," she grunted.

Eryn cursed under her breath as she burst forth from the castle ruins to the brightness of mid-day. The aerial medical transport had arrived and Jaxon busily loaded Serra's stretcher inside. He turned as she approached. In fact, the boy gawked at the sight of his best friend carrying Seifer Almasy across her shoulders.

"Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief, pulling a stretcher with him.

Eryn leaned forward and dropped Seifer onto the stretcher as gently as she could, her hand shooting out to probe his neck with two fingers.. Panic slapped her in the face at his face's disturbingly peaceful expression. "There's no pulse," she hissed. "Fuck! No pulse and no breath!"

"_What?_ Mr. Stubborn-Pain-In-Everyone's-Ass can't hang on for five more minutes—?"

Eryn and Jaxon were both shoved roughly aside. Serra fell across Seifer's inert body, sobbing "No!" just before an eye-searing globe of white enfolded the two. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, a wave of hot and sweet-smelling air pulsing outward with its disappearance that sent both Jaxon and Eryn onto their backside.

Scrambling upright, Eryn searched for a pulse— she let out a fast breath; his heartbeat was strong and constant.

"This isn't right…."

Eryn shifted her focus to Jaxon's frown. "What's the matter?"

"Her heartbeat is constant but… there's something not right. Her breathing and her heart rate… it's too low." Jaxon shook his head. "I don't like it. We've gotta go—Now!"

As Jaxon once again scooped Serra into his arms and made his way to the transport, Eryn assigned stretcher duty to Xu and Raijin while contacting the Balamb Garden Infirmary. "Incoming!"

"Put him in there."

The tone of emergency jarred me awake. I bolted upright and scurried out of the small hospital bed to peek around the corner of the privacy curtain. When I saw Seifer lying motionless on a gurney, my heart broke and I only just prevented a cry. He was so thin and haggard. His trenchcoat torn and bloody, and his boots tattered….

Dr. Kadowaki gave a brusque nod and stepped away once he was safely moved to the bed in the small treatment room. Once she entered the other treatment room, closing the door behind her, I slipped from behind the curtain and into Seifer's room. As the door purred shut behind me, I tip-toed to the bed and stared wide-eyed at the patient there. He was nothing at all the Sub-Lt Cmdr. Seifer Almasy, Head of Network Security, from my memories. And Seifer should have been the one constant. Why? I don't know. That's just the way it should have been. Seifer was… he was _Seifer_.

My knees gave way, sending me into the nearest chair with a 'splut' as I continued to stare. How could I keep doing this day after day? Each moment haunted by the possibility of something else being other than how I remembered. When would I be free to live my life as I wanted to live it? Without the punch in the face each time my memory didn't match.

I covered my face with my hands and cried.

Zell was different. Janine… Janine just _wasn't_. Saerin was Eryn. Marshal was… something I didn't even really know. Even I was different. Two worlds colliding; me stuck in the middle. I didn't want to do it anymore. I just wanted it over. I wanted a new 'day one'. I didn't want to keep looking over my shoulder and wondering….

"Where the hell am I?"

Gasping, I swiped the tears from my face and lifted my head to meet Seifer's dazed expression. He sat up in bed, a hand holding his head as he gazed at me.

"And who the hell are you?"

Out of habit, I bolted to my feet and saluted. "SSO—I mean…." Non-plussed, Istared at him as I realized I had no idea how to introduce myself. A candidate? I hadn't been a candidate for eight years!

"SSO? What the hell is that?" Seifer barked. This time he tossed back the covers and made as if he were about to get out of bed.

"Oh no you don't, sir." I was at his side in one step, pushing him back with a firm hold. "You're not cleared to get out of bed."

He tried to shove me aside, but I resisted, dodging his next attempt in such a fashion that he stared at me in bald-faced shock. Then he smirked. "What are you supposed to be? My mamma? My own personal bodyguard? You're a goddamn patient yourself."

My cheeks flushed as I fought the urge to look at my sweats and t-shirt, common patient attire. "That doesn't matter, sir. You're wounded and I'm not." _Mostly._ "So I get to make certain you stay in bed. Especially since Dr. Kadowaki wouldn't be as nice as I am, sir."

"I'm not your fuckin' 'sir'."

"There's no need to use that tone on me. I can call you 'sir' if I want to." I blinked. _Did you just tell off Seifer Almasy? No, you couldn't have...._ "Sir."

Seifer laughed, and my visions of a court-martial waned, especially when it dawned on me that he was as much a candidate as I was. After all, it was his Final Exam which had started this mess in the first place!

"Fine. Get off me and find Chicken-Wuss or Puberty-Boy."

My brows furrowed. _Does he have any idea how stupid he sounds talking like that?_ Probably not. "I will, but if you don't keep your voice down, Dr. Kadowaki is going to come in here and get us both in trouble. Do you want to be drugged? No? Then shhh."

I glanced over to the door when I heard a sound, and Seifer followed my gaze. When I looked back over at him, he sized me up with his ever-familiar hard gaze. "Just who the hell are you?" he asked, his volume considerably lower.

"Sally. Regal."

"Regal... Regal...." He shrugged. "Never heard of you." He pushed free of my hold to take up a scrutiny of the treatment room. "So, where am I?"

"_Never heard of you."_

Just like that everything changed... again.

"_Never heard of you."_

I had been Seifer's assistant for what seemed ages, and yet now I was just a name. A name he didn't even know. It was like having my entire purpose flushed down the toilet. I had meant something, and now I didn't. It was like having amnesia, but worse: I remembered things that no one else did.

"_Never heard of you."_

Zell never heard of me.

Eryn never heard of me.

Who else had never heard of me? Me.

I turned on my heel, mumbling "Balamb Garden Infirmary," as I walked out of his treatment room and out of the infirmary. Where was I going? I barely knew. I only had one thought in my head: I was done. The only way I could finish was to _be done_. All the way. Forever. No going back. No Zell. No Marshal. No 'That was then, this is now.'

No Garden.

I - was - done—

Rounding the corner into the main corridor, I stepped into a tall form. Looking up, I inwardly cringe at the most appropriate and yet painful of trios to run into at that particular moment: Squall, Eryn, and Quistis. Of all the people in Garden, these were the ones that had the power to do what I thought I wanted.

Their voicing of concern barely registered as I said, "I'm terminating enrollment."


	16. The Final Mission

**_Sixteen ~ The Final Mission ~_**

Eryn Dwyre spoke first. "You do realize that you had been accepted as a Senior? In fact, I planned on scheduling your Exam Qualifier."

"Sally." Quistis' determined expression of sparkling blue couldn't even make me lower my resolve. "Sally, you're one of the highest rated candidates since taking those quizzes and exams that Marshal scheduled."

I twitched without meaning to and balled my hands into fists. "Thank you," I said, my tone controlled and steady. "I appreciate what that means, but I think it best I finalize my recovery with my parents in Timber." It was as far away as I could get at the moment.

Squall raised a hand, and the action caused both Eryn and Quistis to clench their jaws as they wrestled with their own certainties. "How about a compromise?" he said. "I could approve a medical leave of absence with the doctors. You would keep your status as candidate, your placement, and your qualification for an Exam Qualifier as soon as you're ready to return."

Swallowing back the tightness in my throat, I shook my head. "Thank you, Commander, but no. I'm not in peak physical condition anymore. I wouldn't pass the physical requirements, which are hard enough when not injured. Dr. Kadowaki says that even with intense physical therapy treatment, it will be at least six months before I'm even close to my previous performance level. I believe it best I terminate."

And terminating something that had become my life shouldn't have sounded like it didn't matter.

"I strongly disagree, Sally," Eryn said. "It wouldn't be best for anyone involved!"

"Eryn." Squall sent her a warning glance before focusing yet again on my stoic expression. "Sally, can we speak freely for a moment? Off the record?"

A part of me hesitated, but I forced a nod.

"What about a transfer?"

I blinked. "I don't know what you mean."

Squall shifted his focus to Eryn. "It was your baby. You want to tell her now?"

"_Please_." Eryn shifted her focus on me, and a twinkle of mischief sparkled in her emerald gaze. "A little chocobo may have told me of your aspirations towards security. I could transfer you to Galbadia Garden. You can be close to your family while you finish your candidacy." She seemed to glance towards her door, towards the hallway, "I've seen your recent test scores, as well as those from before the accident. An eventual position in Galbadia security isn't out of the question."

I didn't respond. I just couldn't let myself think about that.

"I would so hate to see your career derailed because of one incident here," Eryn continued. She cast Squall and Quistis a sidelong glance at my continued silence. "You have so much potential."

But Garden was Garden.... I shook my head. "Thank you, but...." I shook my head again. "I just need to be done," I whispered. What else could I do? I had to leave him behind.

"But—"

"Sally," Squall interrupted, drawing my gaze, "if I could place you in the private sector in a position that works closely with Garden sometimes... would you take the position?"

My only response for a long moment was a solitary blink. Then my mind slowly began to digest. Could it really be that simple?

"We've had a lot of inquiries and requests for our security-trained personnel," Squall admitted. "From your test scores, you would qualify... with a little paperwork help from Eryn and Quistis. Just last week I received a request for someone with high-level computer skills able to do top security clearance investigative research."

A second chance at my dream...? "I... I hadn't even considered the private sector." What did I really have to lose? It was like running away, without actually running. "All right. I... I can at least look at the position write-up."

"Excellent!" Eryn and Quistis touted as one.

Squall's expression relaxed. "Just let me know when you plan on leaving and I'll make certain you have the documents before then."

"I will." I turned to return to the infirmary, pausing long enough to offer a small smile and a, "Thank you."

It felt good to have something to look forward to; to have hope again. Yes, I was leaving Garden, but… I wasn't leaving Garden completely. I would still be working with them. Still be in contact with them. Still… still have a part of them with me. Still have a little part of my other self.

Both of them.

I stepped into the infirmary— and did an immediate about-face. Instead, I made my way to the dorms, to my dorm room, and pulled a suitcase from my closet.

***

I stared at Zack's little, red sports coupe for a tense moment before shifting my gaze back to Garden. Zack finished clunking my luggage and boxes into the back seat and what smidge of trunk the roadster had and then clicked the lid shut. The click elicited a twitch, but I couldn't draw my burning gaze from the blue beauty of Balamb Garden against the late morning sky. Everyone needed a time to truly understand who they were; that time was mine now, and Garden wouldn't help me find that.

Marshal. Zell. Eryn. Quistis. Seifer. They stood as monumental walls against me. This was me climbing over to the other side.

"You need to go in and say 'good-bye', Munch?"

"I…." I really did, but I there dwelt a fear I wouldn't go if I met a certain pair of laughing blue eyes.

"There's a report I have yet to turn into First-Lt. Rokhart in Security." Zack rest a warm hand on my shoulder. "Come on in and take a last look. A final curtain call, as it were." He tugged Mr. Huggles and Bon-Bon from my fierce grip and tossed them into the back seat of the roadster. Then he wrapped an arm around me and guided me back inside.

My steps dragged against the pavement as I fought back the stinging in my eyes and the burning in my throat. Conflict raged within while a part of me wished long and hard for one last look at Zell, the love of my non-existent life… fighting against the other part of me which longed for mental and emotional peace.

The announcement of hot dogs in the cafeteria blared, causing a hiccup. My teeth clamped hard on my lower lip, and the warm taste of blood on my tongue jerked my attention back from its hazardous decline to memories.

We stepped onto the elevator and waited in tense silence as the doors purred closed. When the lift careened to the lower levels, the tender hold on my calm began to fray. I grabbed Zack's hand and squeezed until my fingers hurt. He returned my frantic grip with one calm and steady. It helped me breathe through the tears that hung in my throat.

How many years of a life that no longer existed…? I didn't want to remember anymore. Done. It was done. I was done. Starting over would be the best decision I had made, even if my heart and mind didn't acknowledge that at this moment in time.

The doors of the lift opened in mocking swiftness and Zack stepped off. My own lagging step caused a tug on his hand, but he didn't look back. His warm hold of my now cold fingers continued and I meekly followed, the memories at each corner of the office hitting me in the back of the brain and causing a flinch at every other step.

I suppose the memories could have been used as motivation to succeed… for a different kind of person. One that could take life by the horns and wrestle their perfect destiny from that fight. But I wasn't Janine.

Janine wasn't—

_Come on, Sally! Quit with the melodramatics!_

I could still find my destiny. That search only required me to unplug. To scurry up and over the wall and see what waited on the other side. I couldn't let depression keep me from life. If I did, I would never be happy… not like I had been. Memories of that happiness rolled over me like a euphoric drug and I experienced a tingle from my head to my toes.

Yes. I wanted to be happy. I _would_ be happy.

So, I had to go to where the happiness waited.

"You all right?" Zack asked in a low tone.

My nod followed a considerable pause as I released his hand.

"Wait here. Turning in this report shouldn't take much longer than…." He checked his watch as he plotted. "Five minutes?"

Then he bequeathed my shoulder with another fond squeeze and entered Fujin's office that preceded the row of cells that ran deeper into the security center— My gaze focused on Marshal and my throat bucked. Gulping back the tears, my steps fought the forward request I made of them. When they complied, the scuff of shoe on metal flooring caused a squeak that reverberated down the corridor and beckoned to Marshal's attention.

His tired gaze lifted from the floor and met mine.

I choked back a sob and swiped away a rebelling tear as I came to stand outside the clear acrylic of his cell door. "…hi…."

Marshal stood, the action tilting my head back. Only one step took him to the cell door; only six inches apart from me…. "Hey, Sally," he said, and his gruff tone grabbed more tears from my eyes. "You're going."

A statement. A sad truth. One that I could see in his eyes. He didn't want me to go either, but he knew it was best. Of course, that didn't make it any easier, but it had to be done. It was just one of those things.

I nodded. _Just shoot me now_, I wanted to yell. But banging on the door demanding something he couldn't provide wouldn't help anyone. It would only make me look like an idiot and make him feel worse.

"Timber?" Marshal asked.

Again, my response resulted in a simple nod.

"Your brother taking you home?"

"I'm staying with him," I said, and my voice strained against the burn of the tears. _Are you going to ask me to stay? Please don't ask me to stay, Marshal._ But maybe that was the one thing I wanted him to do? A tear escaped and my hand swiped it away.

The action wasn't quick enough. Marshal winced.

"You know I can't say it," he said. His tone ground like gravel against my ears.

"I know," I whispered.

"It will be good for you."

My focus lowered to the brushed metal flooring. "I know…."

"Sally…." He cleared his throat and scrubbed at the back of his neck. "Your brother is waiting."

My body leaned toward the acrylic door but I forced it to turn and walk away, my form rigid and my steps more staggers than anything. Marshal hissed an expletive moments before smashing a fist against the wall of his cell. The dull thud caused a flinch and a hiccup of tears. I fisted my hands at my sides and pushed my feet forward, all the while muttering "I'm not leaving him forever" like a mantra.

It had to be done: leaving. I guess, in my naivety, I hoped it wouldn't hurt like my heart being ripped out of the back of my head.

"I'll catch you on the up-side, Sally," Marshal called.

I bolted to the lift as the tears broke through the icy wall of my pseudo-calm.

***

Zell released a quick breath, scrubbing at his scalp as he stared at the toes of his dress-shoes, his feet propped up on the desk in his classroom. His last class of the day had left a few minutes before, left in their wake a stack of homework to grade… but he couldn't focus. Tapping his red pen on the stack of essays, he kept hearing a million different things that kept making him wonder a million others.

Frowning, Zell tossed down the pen and interlaced his fingers upon his head.

The door purred open, drawing his focus and a surprised blink. "Hey, Eryn. S'up?"

"Formality. I need you to sign off on this release for a termination of enrollment. You were the physical therapist, so Dr. Kadowaki needs your signature for the records to be released to the next treating therapist."

"Oh sure thing." Zell straightened, pulling his feet down from the desk as he accepted the form from her and gathered his black pen from his keyboard - red was forbidden on medical forms. "Termination, eh?" he said as he skimmed the form for the place to sign. "That's too ba–" Zell brought the paper closer, eyes widening. He looked up at Eryn. "You serious? Sally?"

Eryn nodded, regret darkening her emerald gaze as she crossed her arms. "I'm afraid so. I tried to offer her a medical leave of absence, but she was adamant. She's going to finish her recovery with her parents in Timber and isn't interested in returning to Garden afterward."

"But she can't!"

"I know. That's what I told her, but she feels it's what's best, considering her physical aptitude after the accident. Dr. Levinne and Dr. Kadowaki agree, unfortunately. I had hoped they would persuade her otherwise." Eryn shook her head as she released a quiet sigh. "I was looking forward to observing her performance on the Field Exam. In fact, I was tempted more than once to bring her onboard the investigative end of Seifer's disappearance. Based solely on her scores, her qualifications would have been more than adequate." Eryn swore. "Now the private sector gets her. Damn it."

"Dude..." Zell stared at the form while shaking his head. "This can't be happening." He looked up. "When does she leave?"

"She left before lunch break. Her elder brother came for her."

Zell lowered his forehead to the table with a **thump**.

***

"This is going to be a veritable adventure," Zack said as he pulled my luggage free. "Baby sis staying with big brother. Will wonders never cease."

I stared up at Zack's house with the same blank look I'd worn the entire trip from Balamb Garden. Lowering my gaze to my backpack as I dug it out of the coupe, I mumbled something incoherent, knowing that I wouldn't convince either of us of anything.

"Oh come on, Munch. You don't have to sound miserable."

"…sorry."

Zack unlocked the front door of his two story home and then ushered me inside. "Home sweet home." Flipping on the front hall light, he motioned to the second story stairs. "Your room is the second door on the left. Make yourself at home while I put a roast in the microwave. Dinner will be ready in 45 minutes."

Half-heartedly nodding, I trudged up the stairs to my new room, sitting slowly onto the bed as my backpack **flumped** onto the floor between my legs. I stared down at it with a blank stare, trying not to remember Zell and my day together in Timber with my parents. Trying not to remember the lunches we'd had together. Dinners. Timber wolves games. Combat King tours. TV show screenings— I threw myself back onto the bed, propped up against the pillows, and turned on the television hanging from the opposite wall.

The phone rang.

Picking up the handset to my left, I beeped it on and said "Hello," without much interest as I stared at the anchorman and anchorwoman reporting some type of weapons leak at the Galbadian missile base (newly built at a different location).

A throat cleared moments before a recognizable voice said, "Hi. Uh... Sally?"

Gasping, I dropped the phone and just stared at it, eyes wide. "...Zell...?" I vaguely heard a 'Hello? Sally? You there?' moments before I scrambled for the phone and held it to my ear with trembling hands. "H-H-Hello?"

He cleared his throat again. "Cool. Uh..." And again. "Watcha doin'?"

"Nothing," I said, closing my eyes to listen to his breathing while scolding myself for doing it.

"Cool. Uh... You got a second to talk?"

But the last time I had done that, I had told him the one secret I should have kept. "Sure."

"Um... er..." Zell released a quick breath. "I'm sorry about the other day, I just... I kinda, well, erm...."

"It's alright," I whispered. _I should have known better than to make that confession._ "Don't worry about it." _Neither of us were ready for it._ Not really. Probably never would be now.

"Oh. But didn't you. Um... I mean..." Then he muttered 'Geez, Dincht...' before blurting "Did you quit because of me?"

"No. I... I didn't." _I have to find a new Sally Regal. That wouldn't happen there. I would keep remembering... her, and you deserve your life._ I deserved mine, too.

"Then how come? I thought you wanted to be SeeD. All those stories... I thought you really wanted it."

_I do, but... _"It doesn't want me, Zell." And it felt wonderful to say his name again. "I've had too many accidents," I reminded. "My back has been bothering me some, and I don't think my muscle endurance is up to par anymore. And my knee? If it gave right in the middle of a mission? Zell, it could jeopardize lives."

"There's plenty you could do without going in the field. Come on! You know that!"

And a part of me wanted to say 'yes'. To believe that he wanted me there at Garden because _he_ wanted me at Garden. Because he missed me.... But I had to find a new 'me.' No… no, I had to find the real 'me'. "I'm done, Zell." _I'm sorry, but it's better this way._ The relief from confessing the 'I'm done' proved that as true.

"But... But what about... Dude! This sucks! You're SeeD, Sally. You know you are!"

_I was once._ But that was a different daydream. Covering my eyes with a hand, I bit my lip as I struggled with my decision. Trying to remember, again, why I was doing this. Why I was cutting this part of myself out. I loved my life as SeeD. Making a difference. Changing the world a little bit at a time. Making people safe... I loved it so much... _You've got a different way of helping them now, Sally. You can't hold onto the past just for him. He isn't the same as you remember. No one is._

That was what I was trying to find: The way beyond a non-existent past.

"Sally?" And his voice rang concerned. "Sally? You okay?"

Nodding, I wiped the tears from my eyes and sniffed, swallowing hard before talking. "I'm OK."

"Aw man. You're cryin'."

I heard him mutter under his breath, mostly 'Geez, Dincht. Watcha thinkin!' that brought a smile. "I'm not crying, Zell. I just... I just..."

"You just don't want to quit," he pressed. "Come on, Sal. Don't do this. You're going to regret it, mega."

But at that moment the only thing I regretted was waking up. "I feel it's the right thing to do."

"Sally... Sally, don't do it."

_Why, Zell? Why shouldn't I?_ Sally Dincht wanted him to say what Sally Regal knew he never would.

"Please?"

Tightening my hand on the phone, eyes still closed, I choked out, "I've got to," and then clicked off, clutching the handset in a white-knuckled grip as the tears dripped from my cheeks to my arm. "For both of us."

An 'us' that had never existed.

**The End**


	17. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

It was dark.

A darkness that swallowed all: thought, sense, time… and left a sole burning flame.

A white flame.

She couldn't harness the power to raise her limb to grasp it—so beautiful! And it seemed to speak to her! To see her through amber eyes….

It was dark.

But she held close to the white flame and was not afraid.

***

Zackary Regal crafted the finishing touches on the lead story for that evening's broadcast when his intercom demanded his attention. "Speak."

"There's an SO Beita here for you, sir."

Both eyebrows raced toward his hairline. "Send him in."

"Will do."

Zack kicked back from his desk and leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head as the Garden officer let himself into the office and closed the door securely behind him. "Have a seat."

"I'll stand, sir." In fact, SO Beita stood very nearly at attention, his expression stoic—at best.

"I accept your offer, sir. I'm reporting for duty."

"So I see. All approved by Commander Squall and First-Lt. Rokhart?"

SO Beita seemed to bristle at that, and all he offered in response was a brusque nod.

"How about I call just to make certain you didn't go and do something stupid." Zack sat forward and pressed the intercom button on the phone. "Ronda, would you mind dialing Balamb Garden. Ask for the details of SO Beita's assignment. I want to make certain I don't use him how I oughtn't."

"Yes, sir."

He rang off. SO Beita didn't blink. Once again, Zack sat back and regarded the man. "I would take you at your word, Beita, but having my sister sitting at home now…. Well, it gives me cause to wonder on your motivations behind the transfer. You understand." When SO Beita still made no reply or reaction, he cocked his head. "You do, don't you? Or am I off base?"

"Your base is your own, sir. I'm here to do a duty. Anything else is my concern." With that, the man turned and made for the exit.

Zack stood and cut him off at the door. "My sister is trying to put her life back together, Beita. I would appreciate it if you kept your distance until she's done that."

Again, no reaction.

"Don't make me ask your commander to put that in order format."

A jaw muscle twitched. "Sir, your sister has a choice. Once she makes it, you better stay the hell out of my way."

With that, he pushed past and exited the office and the station. Zack stared after him, arms crossed as he pondered the possibilities. Then he shrugged and decided to leave destiny alone. She would do what she would do.

And so would Sally.

_**THE END**_


End file.
